Free Peoples of 3 other worlds
by Morwen and Cathelle
Summary: Kel and Neal (Tamora Pierce), Harry Potter, and 2 people from our world get transported into Middle-Earth. Elrond decides it would be fun to send them with the Fellowship. So they go. . .
1. It was all Saruman's fault

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, J.R.R. Tolkien does. I also don't own Harry Potter, (obviously), J.K. Rowling does. And I don't own Kel or Neal either , Tamora Pierce does. The major plot in this story does not completely belong to me either. I have used some general ideas from psycho elf's "Pirates in the Fellowship." And you may notice a bit of Elvish in here. I got that from various websites. I think some of it may be incorrect. So. . .

**Third Age 3018**

**At Orthanc. . . **

Saruman was bored. There was really nothing for him to do. He'd made quite a few hundred orcs already, and his palantir was becoming tiresome. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, an evil thought came to his head, and slowly, a smile began to stretch across his usually grim face.

"I will finally have power over all the Free People of Middle-Earth! They will bow down to me!"

Saruman's plan was to create _another_ Ring, this one binding to power of the Free Peoples. He would take over Middle-Earth and everyone would become his servants. Now why he thought of making a ring, no one knew. He was rather. . . eccentric.

But as it was, when one's mind is so corrupted by thoughts of evil, one neglects to remember that much could go wrong. And so his plans went astray, for instead of summoning the power of the 3 races, he summoned 5 people from 3 different worlds.

When he figured out that he had not succeeded, Saruman destroyed the Ring he had forged, proclaiming it "useless" and had a major temper tantrum, rolling on the ground and soiling his immaculate white garments.

**In Tortall. . . **

Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelin stood, facing her "opponent," Sir Nealan of Queenscove. The two were fencing. As they both lunged at each other, Neal lost his balance and fell, pulling Kel down with him. They both crashed into a wall. Well, actually, to put it in correct terms, they fell into a wall and slid _through_ it, arriving in a very strange-looking room. There were chairs all around them and they were standing near a small circular platform.

Kel sheathed her sword. "Where are we?"

Neal shook his head. "I have no idea."

**On earth (_our _Earth). . . **

Emily1 and Emily2 were having a staring contest, something they often did. In staring so forcefully at each other, they did not see their surroundings change. Emily1 and Emily2 blinked simultaneously, ending their contest. Only then did they notice that they were sitting in 2 of many chairs in the room, facing a small circular platform.

"The Last Homely House!" exclaimed both Emilys at the same time. Then: "Jinx?" Emily2 asked hopefully.

Emily1 shook her head. "Why are we in Rivendell?"

It was definitely hard to believe, but sure enough, there was Elrond's house, behind them, vast and rich, yet delicate and beautiful.

Emily2 jumped as someone tapped her on the shoulder. She spun around and came face-to-face (actually, nose-to-chin, seeing as Neal was taller than her) with an adolescent male and female.

"Do you have any idea where we are?" asked the male, in a dry voice.

Emily1 nodded. "We're in Rivendell-"

"ARE YOU _KELADRY OF MINDELIN_!" Emily2 gawked, staring at the pair.

Neal looked uncomfortable. "Actually, _that's_ Kel." He pointed to Kel. "I'm Neal."

"What are you doing here!"

"Wait-how do you know us?"

Before anyone could say more, a black-haired boy with glasses appeared beside them. He looked rather shaken to find himself in an unknown room.

Emily1 gaped. "HARRY POTTER!"

Harry stumbled back. "Muggles? . . . I'm not supposed to be-oh no! Where am I?"

Emily1 and 2 sighed. The explanations would take forever. When they had finally gotten through all that, still none of them could figure out why they were there. Eventually, Emily1 went into the house to find Elrond. In one of many richly furnished rooms, she ran into Arwen Undomiel, Elrond's only daughter.

"_Mae govannen na Imladris_." Said Arwen. (Welcome to Rivendell)

Emily1 frantically searched her small sindarin vocabulary. "Um, _hannon le_." (thank you)

Arwen smiled (probably at Emily1's accent).

"Um," Emily1 fumbled, awed by the Lady's portrayed beauty, "could I speak with your father, lord Elrond? There are some matters I would like to address with him."

"Certainly." Said Arwen, still smiling. "Are you of the people of the south?"

Emily1 considered this. The elves were friendly. The foreigners would be safe here. "Not of the south, but of a land even farther away."

Arwen looked slightly baffled, but nevertheless brought Emily1 to Elrond, who was standing on a veranda, looking over his gardens. Elrond nodded, acknowledging her presence, then gave her his famous frown.

"Who are you and what business do you have in Imladris? Do you serve Sauron or are you enemy to him?" he asked as soon as Arwen had left.

Emily1 was startled, as one might be in her position. "My name is Emily and I come from the planet Earth, which is foreign to this place. I did not come by will, or I may know how I ended up here. And to answer your last question: I serve neither Sauron nor the Ring. Does that clear things up?"

But evidently Elrond was not satisfied. "Are there any that came with you?"

"There is one from where I am from. She is a human as well. The other three are from different worlds. From what I know, none came here willingly and none mean any harm. We are just as confused as you, if not more."

Elrond sighed. It was his first encounter with strangers from other worlds, and, as much as he was convinced that they were not allied with the enemy, he also had no idea why they were here.

At length he spoke. "My daughter Arwen will find you a room to stay in. Bring me the other four."

"Very well, my lord." Emily1 bowed her head respectfully and walked off the veranda. She found Arwen waiting for her. She showed her to a room with splendid décor, the biggest bedroom Emily1 had ever set foot in. Arwen backed out, unnoticed by Emily1's astounded eyes. The bed must have been king-sized, and the windows were draped with a light purple silk, bringing colour and liveliness to the room.

Suddenly, Emily1 remembered that she was supposed to bring Emily2, Kel, Neal, and Harry to Elrond. She didn't think Elrond had an abundance of patience. She dashed out of the room and back to where the 4 were waiting. Depositing them in front of Elrond, she returned to her room, where she flopped onto the bed, suddenly overcome with unexplainable weariness and immediately fell asleep, sure that all this was a dream.

A few hours later, though, she had been convinced that it was not a dream, as she woke up to see fancy carvings in the ceiling. It was evening, and the last rays of the sun streaked feebly through her window as the got out of bed and answered the knocking at the door, which had started a few seconds ago. Emily2 was there, and apparently the issue of the foreigners had been settled, because she was announcing that they should go to dinner.

At dinner, both were surprised to see 4 hobbits and a ranger eating with them. That meant it must have been around the end of October.

Elrond confirmed their guesses. "It is the 24th of October." He said, in answer to their question.

Dinner passed by like a blur. Dish after dish of steaming food was brought to the table. The Emilys were still confused as to why they were in Middle-Earth, but they decided that, since they were there, they might as well have fun.

The next morning the Emilys woke to find spare clothes beside their bed (seeing as they only had what they were wearing). They consisted of a cloak, breeches, leather tunics, and soft leather boots. In the bundle was also a dress, but never had either of them seen anything so elegant and fine. It was of rich velvet, of deep red and dark purple, with a delicate gold trim around the collar and sleeves.

The 2 Emilys went to breakfast together, wearing their new clothes, which would have looked awkward in their old world. At breakfast Elrond asked them to attend the council, which would take place later today. A conversation with the other foreigners revealed that they, too, had been invited.

**At the council. . . **

Emily2 looked around her. There were many elves that she did not recognize, but she did perceive Gloin, the dwarf, one of the 13 who had accompanied Thorin to the Lonely mountain. Sitting beside him was him son, Gimli. At the other end of the room she recognized Legolas, Prince of Greenwood, who was there as a messenger of his father, Thranduil. And of course there was Aragorn and Elrond, and Frodo and Gandalf. There was also a man of the south, Boromir, son of the steward of Gondor. Emily1 felt very inferior to be surrounded by such people of high authority and rank. Emily2, on the other hand, yawned. _How boring can you get?_ She wondered as Elrond spoke. Eventually he said, "Bring forth the Ring."

Frodo stood up and placed the Ring on the small platform. Emily2 immediately felt a strong attraction to it, somewhat inexplicable, even though she knew the Ring had a mind of its own. Harry was frowning, with his hand inside his pocket, gripping his wand. Kel and Neal also looked rather uncomfortable. Emily1 fidgeted, shifting her glance to the other people at the council, who had started murmuring among themselves.

Elrond was still talking. Emily2 had tuned him out, transfixed in the beauty of the small object. It seemed so harmless, and yet, dangerous. For a fleeting moment, she felt resentful toward the fact that it should be destroyed, but soon that passed, and she was brought back down to earth (not literally, or she would have found herself where she was at the beginning of this story, having a staring contest with nobody, as Emily1 would still be here) just in time to hear Elrond select the 5 foreigners to go with Frodo to Mordor and destroy the Ring. He chose also Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Legolas, and Gimli, to represent the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth.

"You shall be the Fellowship of the-"

Gandalf cleared his throat. "Excuse me, lord Elrond, but you seem to have forgotten that I would prefer to guide them to Mordor, rather than wait worriedly for their return. I assure you, they will need me."

Elrond's face remained hard and unchanged. "_Delu van no le. Dhannathal, Mithrandir_." (A fell road is before you. You will fall, Mithrandir.)

"If that is to happen, then such a fate was meant for me," responded Gandalf stubbornly. "I will guide the Fellowship."

Before Elrond could respond, Boromir stood up. "I, too, will go. I will represent my people."

Sam, Merry, and Pippin came out from behind a clump of bushes. "You're not leaving me behind!" shouted Sam. "I swore to protect Frodo, and I shall!"

"And you'll have to tie us up and put us in sacks if you wish for us to remain behind." added Pippin.

Elrond sighed. For a moment he was silent, mulling over the prospect of adding 5 more members to the Fellowship. This was not how he had planned things. Merry and Pippin would prove almost useless, it seemed. Sam. . . Sam could not be separated from his master. He would never be able to live with himself. But even so, Elrond could not see the use in him going to Mordor. He knew that Gandalf and Boromir would go, even if he did not allow it. Then, almost smiling, he shook his head. The 3 hobbits were just as pigheaded and stubborn as Gandalf, if not more. Sending them along with the Fellowship would prevent them from sneaking off after them on their own. He sighed again, wondering why _he_ had to be the one to make such choices. "So be it then. The _14_ of you shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

The Emilys were ecstatic. They had never, in their wildest dreams, imagined being part of the Fellowship. Kel and Neal looked quite baffled, and Harry just wondered how he had gotten himself into this mess.

The 5 foreigners spent the next 2 months getting ready to leave Rivendell. There were also a number of things they had to be taught. Fencing and swordsmanship was a must for the Emilys and Harry (Kel and Neal knew how to use a sword, as well as the bow, and could ride skillfully, thanks to years under lord Wyldon's discipline). Emily2 could use a bow and Emily1 had taken horseback riding before. She was overjoyed to hear that she could ride every day in Rivendell.

And so their days fell into an enjoyable routine. In the morning they started with fencing, taught by Aragorn, Boromir, and one of the elves (Aragorn and Boromir taught them to fence with Gondorian swords and the elf taught them to fence with elven swords), followed by archery, taught by Legolas. They took a break for lunch and then went to the stables for horseback riding, taught by Arwen, and sometimes other elves. Then they had their own time until dinner. After dinner, members of the Fellowship would take turns teaching the 5 of them the history of Middle-Earth and its current rulers, as well as a bit of Elvish and Rohirric, in case they ever needed to use it. As usual, Emily1 took notes, something everyone found rather amusing.

By the end of the first week, Emily1 wanted to stay in Rivendell forever; it was just so beautiful. She had always envied elves, for they were so peaceful and had so much skill. And of course, she loved pointy elf ears.

During the second week, an interesting conversation took place between Harry and Gandalf.

"What are you?" Harry said out of the blue.

"What?" Gandalf was taken aback by this question.

"Well, everyone else is either a dwarf, an elf, a man, or a hobbit. You don't seem to fall into any of those categories. What are you?"

"I'm a wizard."

"Are you? So am I! I go to Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry."

"To what?"

"Hogwarts. It's a school for wizards and witches. Haven't you ever heard of it?"

Gandalf looked a bit confused. "No. I've never heard of such a thing-or place. But either way, we must devise something to tell other people if they ask about that wood thing of yours." He pointed to Harry's wand.

Harry felt a wave of frustration pass over him. "It is _not_ a wood thing!" he said hotly. Then, to demonstrate his point, he raised his wand and announced, "_Wingardium_ _Leviosa_!" Gandalf's hair started rising, and rising, until it stood on end, at which point Harry lowered it slowly.

Gandalf stared, openmouthed. Then, promptly, he closed his mouth and hid his amazement. However, the awe still showed in his voice as he said, "That is a powerful weapon. We will tell others that you have shown great potential to be a wizard. The piece of wood will be replacing your staff, and you shall be my assistant."

The time passed quickly. By the end of the first month Emily2 hit her target every time in archery, Emily1 could jump small hedges, and both could disarm each other in fencing. All 5 could successfully recite the history of Gondor and Rohan and Middle-Earth's current kings and rulers.

And by the end of the second month, nobody wanted to leave. But they had to complete this mission, and prepared to leave for December 25, exactly 2 months after the council of Elrond.

"Merry Christmas." Emily1 said glumly to Emily2 as they prepared to leave. Emily2 nodded, also very subdued.

Just before they left, Elrond had one last talk with the Fellowship, concerning the foreigners.

"They are not to know your true names," he said, "nor your origins, or, most importantly, that you do not belong to Middle-Earth." He turned to Emily1. "You shall be Itarildë." (that's Elvish for Emily, and from now on Emily1 will be referred to as "Itarildë" to avoid confusion) "You shall be of Elvish ancestry. All of you shall be of Gondor." Kel was to be Ioreas. Neal (Iorlas) and Emily2 (Ioreth) were to be her cousins. Harry was dubbed Olorin the Different, and was given the position of Gandalf's student. That was he could still use magic in Middle-Earth, especially in desperate need, and would not be questioned for it. All of them were to be born and raised in Gondor (well, except Harry).

He had named her Itarilde because she seemed to have a certain air of grace around her. He'd noticed her walking lightly in the gardens of Rivendell, never unbalanced, and would have thought she _was_ a descendant (though very far down the family line) of some elf if she had not been from another world. And even though she didn't have pointed ears, her manner of self-composure seemed to almost resemble that of an elf's.

And so the Fellowship set off. Aragorn looked back for a moment and cast a final, wistful, glance at Arwen, and Emily2 could have sworn she had seen him wipe away a few tears.

A/N: I've decided to add in something to help everyone who reads this story. I've been nagging myself to do this since I started this story, but I've been procrastinating. I realized after I posted the first chapter that I never described the 2 Emilys. For all the readers know, they are just 2 random characters, picked out of my imagination. That isn't quite who they are. Well, they certainly are people that I dreamed up, but they aren't just there to fill in spaces.

Emily1 and Emily2 are two girls from this world that we live in. They are good friends and are quite young (I would say no older than 15) as compared to everyone else in the Fellowship. This makes it a bit surreal when they fight battles and kill orcs, but I can't possibly take them out of the fighting in LOTR. So just bear with me if it becomes somewhat unrealistic. Emily2 tends to be a bit more mature than Emily1, and Emily1 tends to be more spirited and excitable than her friend. Both the Emilys have long brown hair, are the same height, and have the same coloured eyes (brown). Because they look alike, this sometimes causes confusion when others address them. I've made them almost the centres of attention in this story because most of the people who will read this story already know Harry Potter, Tamora Pierce's characters, and the LOTR characters and all their characteristics. But then there are 2 other personalities, completely different from the others. It stands out a bit, I guess.

I think that's all. Let me know if I've missed anything!


	2. The Passage of Redhorn

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, or POTC, or Harry Potter, or Kel or Neal.

A/N: I've just finished editing this chapter as well, and now it's LONGER! Yay! It's described in more detail, though I'm still not sure if there's enough interaction between characters, as I have received 2 reviews about lack of interaction. Anyway, review and tell me if this is an improvement!

The Fellowship traveled in silence until they reached a shelter. Since Itarilde and Emily had nothing to do, they decided to polish their already spotless bows, given to them by Elrond when they had started practicing archery in Rivendell. They had also been given elven swords - shortened, of course. As with all elven swords, half of the sword was blade and the other half handgrip.

Kel, upon leaving, was presented with an elven spear of the second age, greatly resembling her Yamani glaive. At the moment, she was practicing pattern dances with it.

Harry had been given an elven bow, as well as an ancient Numenorean sword.

And lastly, Elrond had presented Neal with a beautiful elven shield, for deflecting any blows he might receive for his big mouth.

Now, the Company was hiding under bushes, anywhere that they wouldn't be seen. They rested for a few hours, until Aragorn decided it was safe to journey on.

For 2 weeks their days proceeded in that way. They would journey through the night, rest from noon till sunset, and continue on. On the 14th night, they stopped on a hilltop and lit a fire. This was the first fire they'd had since they left Rivendell, and it was welcomed gladly.

Suddenly, Harry looked up at the sky. Something up there was making him uneasy. Then, he saw it: A dark, dense cloud was drawing ever closer to the Fellowship.

"Aragorn!" he shouted. "Over there!"

Aragorn's reaction was immediate. "Hide!" he ordered, and started gathering up the objects they had left lying around. Boromir stomped out the fire and everyone literally dove into the hedges. As the cloud passed overhead, Itarilde heard Aragorn mutter, "Crebain of Fangorn and Dunland!"

"They're spies of Saruman." Gandalf whispered.

Emily peered curiously from a spot between 2 branches. The cloud consisted of bird-like creatures, resembling crows, but greater in size.

They waited until the crebain had passed, they cautiously crept out of the hedge to continue on their way.

"The passage to the south is being watched. We must go through the passage of Redhorn," announced Gandalf.

_**The Pass of Caradhras. . . **_

Itarilde shivered, her numb feet plodding through the knee-high snow. She gritted her teeth and silently cursed the mountain. A snowstorm had started up the moment the 14 of them had set food in the snow. Well, except for Legolas. He on the other hand, was walking on top of the snow lightly. _Elves,_ thought Emily, _It's not fair._

Suddenly, Frodo tripped and fell, somersaulting a few feet down. Boromir picked up the

Ring, which Frodo had dropped, and held it up to get a good look. "It is a strange fate. . . that we should suffer so much, for so small a thing."

Emily stared at him. Boromir had a glazed look in his eyes. He didn't seem to be aware of the Fellowship, waiting for him to return the Ring to Frodo. He certainly didn't seem inclined to do the latter.

Aragorn gripped the hilt of his sword. "Boromir, give the Ring to Frodo."

With a great effort, Boromir managed to tear his eyes from the object in his hand. He handed it to Frodo, after a moment's hesitation, ruffling the hobbit's hair. Slowly and discreetly, Aragorn released his sword.

They soon came up onto a ledge. The wind suddenly picked up, whipping the snow harshly into their faces. Soon they would be in the danger of falling into the crevice to their right.

"There's a fell voice in the air!" announced Legolas.

Straining her ears, Kel could hear it too. A deep voice, chanting words that she could not understand.

"_Cuiva nwalca Carnirassë! Nai yarvaxëa rasselya taltuva ñotto-carinnar!"_ (Wake up cruel Redhorn! May your blood-stained horn fall upon the enemies!)

"It's Saruman!" shouted Gandalf.

_Now _that's_ stupid, _thought Emily, _Gandalf, of all people, should know never to shout on a snow mountain! He'll bring the entire thing down on us!_

Gandalf then started to chant as well.

"_Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith!" _(Sleep Caradhras, be still, lie still, hold your wrath!)

A roar was heard from above them. Kel glanced up, only to see what she had been afraid of. The snow that was piled on the ledged above them collapsed on them with tremendous force, burying the Fellowship and knocking the wind out of everybody.

Legolas was the first to emerge from the thick blanket of snow above him. He scanned the ground, wondering if anyone had fallen over the ledge. Aragorn and Boromir appeared soon afterward, and helped the elf uncover the rest of the Fellowship. Legolas counted silently the number of people uncovered. Twelve. . .

"Where's Neal?" he asked Aragorn. The ranger didn't know. The two searched frantically for the missing man while the others debated about their route.

"We must get off the mountain! Make for the gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!" Boromir had to shout to be heard over the roar of the wind.

"No!" Gandalf replied, "The gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!"

"If we cannot go over a mountain, let us pass under it! Let us go through the Mines of Moria," Gimli suggested.

Gandalf sighed. He wanted with all his heart to refuse Gimli. Moria was a dangerous place. There was no telling whether they would come out of the mountain alive. But then, standing on top of Caradhras, with the winds battering ice and snow on them, ready to sweep them off the mountain with the barest push, it was hardly safer.

"Let the Ringbearer decide," Gandalf came to the conclusion that, even though he couldn't decide where to take them, somebody had to.

"We will go through the mines," Frodo told them, in a high, unsteady voice.

Gandalf lowered his eyes. "So be it."

Legolas and Aragorn were still looking for Neal.

"This doesn't look good. He should have come up by now. . . unless he was pushed over the ledge, or unconscious, or. . ." Aragorn didn't want to think about the possibilities.

"We have to find him soon, or he will freeze to death!"

With that thought in mind, the elf and man quickened their search. Before long Aragorn stumbled upon a figure lying under the snow. He dragged it out. It was Neal.

When Neal finally got his head above the snow, he was sure he must have been half-dead. If he had been cold before, then surely he now must have been frozen into the ground. He surfaced just in time to hear Frodo say that they would go through the mines of Moria. He felt a sense of relief wash over him. Kel made her way over.

"Are you okay?" Kel eyed him with concern. He had been buried for so long. . .

Neal nodded. He was a bit frozen, but he would survive, or so he hoped. As they descended, however, he was stricken with a pleasant, warm feeling which jolted through his body. He wanted just to lie down and fall asleep. Kel walked over to him, sensing that something was not right. Something about the way Neal dragged his feet, and moved with such lethargy, his eyes awash with exhaustion . . . it occurred to her that he might be suffering hypothermia that very instant. She watched, horrified, as Neal continued to stagger on, and wondered how much longer he could keep up.

Eventually, they reached the entrance of the Mines, just as Neal was beginning to give in to the drowsiness. As Gandalf tried to open the door, Kel wrapped Neal in his bedroll and hope fervently that he would get better soon. Unfortunetly, she possessed no magical Gift and could not do anything except keep her friend warm.

"So, where are these doors?" Itarilde asked.

"Ah, Dwarf-doors. . ." Gimli relished every word. "They cannot be seen when they are shut, and sometimes even their own masters cannot find them."

Legolas made a distinct noise that sounded much like a snort and muttered something along the lines of, "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Gimli glared at him. "You didn't let me finish. Only if the secret is forgotten will they not be found by anyone."

"And the secret?" Legolas still looked highly skeptical.

"Their secret lies where moonlight shines."

Everyone was still trying to guess what he meant when the moon shone on a smooth but dusty wall. On the wall, lines of light formed and spread to make a figure outlining the doors of Moria. A number of elvish words were also illuminated. Itarilde attempted to read the words.

"_The doors of Durin,_ something _of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter. I, Narvi,_ something something. _Celebrimbor of Hollin_ drew something something."

Aragorn shook his head and laughed. "Your elvish is getting rusty. Have you forgotten everything Legolas and I taught you?" He smiled slightly at Itarilde's chagrined face. She was rather sensitive about critism, especially when it came to her education. "Don't worry, I'll teach you more elvish sometime. The words say, 'The doors of Durin, lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter. I, Narvi, made them. Celebrimbor of Hollin drew these signs.'"

"_Speak, friend, and enter_. . . but what does that mean?" Merry asked.

"Well, that's very simple," Gandalf told him. "If you're a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open. _Annon adhellen, edro hi ammen! _(Gate of the elves, open for me now)" Nothing happened. "_Fennas nogothrim, lasto beth lammen!" (_doorway of the dwarf-folk, listen to the word of my tongue). Still nothing.

"They don't seem to be opening." Itarilde commented, as if it were really necessary.

"What are you going to do then?" Pippin gathered the courage to ask.

"Go knock your head against them, Peregrin Took. At least that may allow me a bit of peace!"

At first Pippin really looked like he was going to bang his head on the doors. He approached them, staring at the words.

"It's a riddle! Gandalf! I've figured it out! You need to speak the elvish word for 'friend!'"

Gandalf looked up in amazement, as if stunned that a simple-minded hobbit could have possibly figured out the solution.

"Well, Peregrin Took, it appears you have some use after all, though I wouldn't be surprised if you woke the dead with all the racket you are making. Quiet down, for goodness sake," to the doors he said in a commanding tone, "_Mellon._"

Kel was still watching Neal's sleeping form. He appeared to be getting better, though once in a while a shiver seemed to pass through his body. He awoke just as the great stone doors creaked open.

"Are you still cold?" Kel asked her friend worriedly. Neal shook his head, feeling much better than he had a few hours ago. Kel sighed with relief and made him put on a thick coat before they followed the rest of the Fellowship into the Mines. Everyone rushed inside, grateful to be away from the dark pool behind them, and in doing so, neglected to notice the water stir and ripple.


	3. The pitch blackness of Moria

Chapter 3

The pitch blackness of Moria

As the Fellowship stepped into the mines of Moria, Itarilde tripped over something on the ground. She let out a cry of surprise and disgust. A dead dwarf was lying at her feet, with 3 arrows imbedded in his chest. Searching the ground around her, Itarilde found numerous other dead dwarves, all whom had been lying there for many years.

"Ewwww!" she screamed, earning silencing looks from everyone else.

Legolas pulled an arrow out of one of the dwarves and examined it closely.

"Goblins." He proclaimed.

"This isn't a mine!" said Kel. "It's a tomb!"

Everyone rushed back outside. Suddenly, a scream was heard. Frodo was being lifted into the air by a large tentacle.

"Help!" he cried, just before another tentacle wrapped around his mouth and nose, cutting off his breathing. Aragorn quickly stepped into the water and sliced off the tentacles that were binding Frodo. Legolas took aim and fired, his arrow finding its way to the monster's mouth, which had just surfaced.

Emily also shot an arrow at it, successfully piercing the left eye. Itarildë started to do the same, but a tentacle suddenly whipped out of the water and swept her right off her feet. Startled, she accidentally let go of the arrow she had been about the shoot. Her mishap was not in vain, though, for her arrow, initially intended for the underside of the monster's stomach, hit instead his right eye. Blindly waving his tentacles, the thing let go of Frodo and started to advance unknowingly on the other members of the Fellowship.

Harry lifted his wand and shouted "expelliarmus!" at the same time as Legolas fired another arrow. Everyone ran back to the mines just as the monster crashed into the doors, sending it crumbling down and leaving the Company in darkness.

The first thing the Fellowship heard was a mutter: "lumos," and a faint glow began to form at the tip of Harry's wand, just bright enough for them to see Gandalf tap his staff on the ground. It lit up, casting a bright light around, in a radius of 5 feet in every direction. Everyone crowded around. They made a very odd procession. Gandalf squinted, trying to see through the darkness around them.

Kel frowned. Why had Frodo been the only one to get captured by the sea monster in front of the mines? Why had he been the one in the first place? Was it merely a coincidence or was there actually some significance behind it? She stopped pondering the subject as she nearly tripped over a loose stone, and decided to pay better attention to the ground in front of her.

They walked along a ledge for a while. Legolas got bored, and decided to look to his right, down a deep pit that seemed to have no bottom.

"What's down there?" he whispered, awed at the fact that anything could be so vast and deep.

"Mithril." Gandalf replied. "The dwarves have mined for it for centuries. Moria-silver, Durin's Bane, it is called. This is the only place in the world that you can find it."

Itarildë, moved by some sudden impulse, also looked down. The sight made her head spin, and for a moment she thought she might fall in. She quickly backed away and from then on hugged the wall beside the ledge (metaphorically, not literally).

This place was not for Aragorn. He was rather scared of the dark, strange as it might seem. And this mine, it was beyond dark. It was blacker than night, and it was almost impossible to think that dwarves had once dwelt here. If it weren't for Gandalf's staff they would have fallen into the pit by now, and they would probably still be falling.

After a while Gandalf led them down a great hallway.

"Here is the great hall of Dwarrowdelf" He said.

Emily looked around her. Arches reaching the ceiling surrounded them on either side. She was given the impression that she was walking along a red carpet to meet a king on his throne-in the dark, though.

Suddenly, Gimli broke into a run, waddling as fast as his short legs would carry him, into a small room. The room had a hole in the roof, something Kel found a bit strange. From the hole streamed a ray of moonlight, shining directly upon the stone block (or so it looked) in the centre of the room. Gimli threw himself on the block, sobbing uncontrollably. Frodo pointed to the dwarf runes engraved in the stone.

"What do they say, Gandalf?"

After a pause, Gandalf translated, "They say, 'Balin, son of Fundin, lord of Moria.'"

By this point Gimli had started wailing, but no one was making any move to comfort him. Gandalf picked up a dusty book lying in the hands of a skeleton and started to read it aloud. "'We cannot get out. They have taken- "

"Wait." Interrupted Neal. "Who are 'they'?"

"Don't interrupt me!" snapped Gandalf. Neal drew back a little. "'they' means the orcs, of course! Have you been paying no attention to your lessons in Rivendell?!" he cleared his throat. "Anyway, 'they have taken the Bridge and the Second Hall. The end comes. There are drums in the deep. They are coming.'"

Gimli was still sobbing. Pippin decided to cheer him up. "Look Gimli!" He dangled a skeleton above a well beside the tomb and shook it around, giving others the impression that it was dancing. Then, all of a sudden, he accidentally dropped the skeleton, sending it down the well, and causing it to fall thousands of feet, and bringing with it a long chain and a bucket.

Gandalf slammed the book shut, sending dust flying, and causing Itarildë to sneeze.

"Fool of a Took! Next time throw yourself in and rid us of your stupidity!"

Pippin winced. Legolas was about to go over and console him when he heard drums. . . in the deep.

"They are coming!" he announced.

Everyone soon became aware of the pounding that was approaching the Fellowship. Boromir quickly ran over to the door and barred it in place with 2 axes. He turned to the Fellowship and informed them with mock cheeriness. "They have a cave troll."

They didn't have to wait long before the orcs started to break down the door. Gimli stood upon Balin's tomb in a sumo wrestler's stance. "Let them come." He growled.

Emily, Itarildë, Legolas, and Aragorn stood at the front, bows ready. Behind them were Boromir, Neal and Kel, with swords and spear. Lastly were the 4 hobbits and Harry and Gandalf. Harry had decided to put his life into the hands of his wand rather than a sword or a bow, as those weapons were completely new to him.

The orcs had made a small hole in the door. Immediately, Legolas shot an arrow through it, killing the orc who had made the hole.

Sweat broke out on Itarildë's forehead. This would be her first battle, and maybe even her last. She certainly hoped not. But grimly, she pushed that thought away and brushed the hair out of her eyes, and readied herself for the massacre. Last battle or not, she still had to help out.

As soon as the door broke down, all 4 archers loosed their arrows, killing 4 different targets. Not bad, for a first shot, thought Emily as she strung another arrow.

Kel was having the time of her life. She slew orc after orc with her spear, gracefully, and yet, mercilessly. Neal was not too far away, also successfully killing the ugly creatures.

Harry decided to stand back and act when he was needed, for there was no need to injure himself while he was unarmed (except for his wand).

Still in the front line with Legolas and Aragorn, Itarildë had been forced to switch to her sword, as the orcs were advancing quickly. Even though she was grateful to be able to choose between weapons, she found that she was much more adept with the bow than the sword, and eventually retreated to stand beside Boromir. Emily had long since retreated and was now beheading orcs with her sword.

Suddenly, Harry had an idea. He shouted at everyone to shoot as many arrows as possible at the orcs. When they had spent all their arrows, he shouted, "Accio elven arrows!" and all the arrows ripped out of the orcs, splattering black blood everywhere, and came to rest at Harry's feet.

However, one of the orc archers who hadn't been shot fitted an arrow onto his string and attempted to shoot Itarildë. She dodged, but nevertheless the arrow managed to graze the right side of her ribcage. She gasped in pain, then hardly noticed as the troll picked her up and threw her against the wall, knocking the wind out of her.

All of the orcs were now gone. The only thing left was the cave troll. Emily ran over from behind him and tried to stab him, but was punched in the face by the dull end of the mace he was carrying.

Suddenly, he spotted Frodo. He chased after him, Frodo stumbling as he ran. Then he tripped. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the troll stabbed Frodo with his spear. Frodo's face turned from one of fear to one of intense pain.

Harry raised his wand and said "stupefy!" which _did _stupefy the troll, for just enough time to let Merry and Pippin jump onto him and continually stab him with their swords.

Enraged, the troll spun around, destroying everything in his path. Legolas shot arrows in rapid-fire attacks, and everyone watched as the troll gave one last swing with his mace and fell down face first.

The hobbits, Aragorn, Boromir, and Gandalf rushed over to Frodo. Boromir frowned and flipped Frodo onto his back. He gasped. "This isn't right. You should be dead."

Frodo shook his head. "I'm all right."

"He's alive!" Sam shouted to Legolas, who was taking his arrows out of the troll.

"How can that be?" Aragorn wondered aloud. His curiosity got the better of him and he unbuttoned Frodo's outer shirt, revealing a coat of mithil. Gandalf recognized it immediately. "That used to be Bilbo's. I never told him, but that shirt is worth more than the entire Shire."

For a moment everyone relaxed, now that Frodo's life was not in danger. Then they heard it: loud drumbeats resounded in the distance.

End of Chapter


	4. The balrog of Morgoth

Chapter 4

The Bridge of Khazad-dum

Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own LOTR, or Harry Potter, or Kel or Neal, (sighs) but you already know that. Anyway, this chapter continues from when the last chapter ends, because I couldn't find another place to break the chapter.

"Run!" shouted Gandalf.

Everyone ran. Eventually they came to a long hall. Orcs came down from the ceiling and walls. Soon they were surrounded. Everyone just kind of stood there, waiting for the other to attack. Then, without warning, the orcs ran back up the walls and pillars.

Legolas frowned. This wasn't right. . .

From the hall behind them, a great red light was emerging.

"To the Bridge of Khazad-dun!"

They continued running, down a lot of stairs. Itarilde's wound had stopped bleeding, though it continued to throb and protest. Soon they reached a gap in the stairs. Legolas jumped first, followed by Kel and Neal. The gap steadily grew as Gandalf and Boromir made it over. Aragorn threw all the hobbits over and attempted to assist Gimli in getting over.

"Nobody touches a dwarf." He grunted, and jumped. Legolas grabbed his beard and pulled him onto the other side.

Emily and Itarilde looked at each other.

"Remember how you made the school team for long jump?" Emily asked.

"Yes, but I didn't win anything." Said Itarilde, staring at the gap.

"Well, either way, it's a good thing you did!"

They both jumped. Emily closed her eyes. Then, the next thing she knew, she was on the other side, feet planted firmly on the rock. Legolas had caught them both. As he took his hand away, he noticed it was covered in blood. Itarilde's blood. He also noticed Emily's face, where a purple-blue bruise the size of a grapefruit was beginning to form under her eye. Before he could say anything, though, Aragorn and Harry crashed into him (both having just landed) and only his natural balance saved him from falling off the stairs.

They kept running. Eventually, they reached a bridge. The width was only wide enough for them to cross in a single file line.

And so they did. Everyone did their best not to look down. Just as Gandalf was about to cross, a big red creature (which had pursued them) appeared behind him with a whip. Immediately, everyone froze.

They all looked at Gandalf, who shouted, "It is a Balrog of Morgoth! Fly! This is a foe beyond any of you. Swords cannot be of use here!"

The rest of the Fellowship reached the other side safely. Gandalf was halfway across the bridge when the Balrog decided to stomp on the ground right before the bridge. It shook, but Gandalf remained unperturbed.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. Go back to the Shadow!" he took his sword and staff on the bridge. The rock crumbled at before him, and the Balrog fell. Gandalf turned around and faced the Fellowship with a victorious look on his face.

Then, suddenly, the Balrog's whip wrapped around Gandalf's ankle. It pulled him down after it.

"Noooooooo!" cried Frodo.

"Fly, you fools!" That was the last thing the Company heard from Gandalf before he disappeared into the dark chasm.

End of chapter

A/N: I should be studying right now. I have a unit test in Science in a few days and I have to memorize the stuff! I get pretty paranoid about tests. I do all sorts of things to help me memorize and yet I still don't remember what I've studied! Anyway, a few days ago we watched this really graphic movie in science (miracle of life cringe) where it shows the birth of a child. . . It was gross. And I have to study this stuff! Well, I suppose it could be worse, especially if I go to University and take a major in biology. But I don't plan to do that. Anyway, please review!


	5. Truth or dare in Lothlorien

Chapter 5

Truth or Dare in Lothlorien

Disclaimer: _I don't own LOTR, and . . . why is this on itallic?!_ Maybe because I pressed control-i. No one reviews this story!!!!! But, rather than get disappointed, I will continue writing, because, STUBBORNNESS RULES!!!!! Oops, did I spell that right?

Aragorn bowed his head respectfully. "We must obey his last command." He said, and lead the Fellowship out of the mines.

It was glorious to see sunshine again, having spent 4 days in a dark, dingy mine. Everyone flung themselves on the grass and breathed in the fresh air. Even Gimli. Eventually, Legolas remembered the Emilys and their injuries.

"Aragorn." He said, pointing at them.

Aragorn started to make his way over.

Itarilde shook her head. "I'm fine." She gasped, though the pain was now spreading all over her torso.

Neal came over, hands on his hips. "That you most certainly are not. Allow me."

He started to glow a pale greenish colour. The next moment, a feeling of warmth was spreading through Itarilde's icy chest. The wound became a scar, something she would carry to the end of her days.

As Neal looked over Emily, Aragorn tended to Frodo. All the other hobbits were sobbing for the loss of Gandalf. They couldn't even eat.

Aragorn stood up. "Get them up, Boromir."

Boromir looked exasperated. "Give them a rest, for pity's sake!" The truth was, he wouldn't have minded staying where they were for a while.

Aragorn was in a hurry. He didn't want his orders questioned. "By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs. I suppose you would like to be their prey?" he walked over so that his face was a centimeter from Boromir's. Boromir looked away and drew back, gathering the hobbits with him.

They staggered on, until they reached the fair woods of Lorien. Itarilde looked around with interest. She had never seen a forest so dense, but, yet, beautiful. There was a narrow stream and they all waded through. In doing so, everyone felt their weariness fade away and get carried down the stream.

Aragorn was the first to reach the other bank. As soon as he set foot on it, an arrow whistled by him and landed in the stream. Uttering a cry of surprise, he quickly drew out Anduril. Harry tightened his grip on his wand. Before anyone could do anything, thought, a voice came from the tree nearest them.

"Who enters the Woods of Lorien?"

Legolas climbed out of the water. "I am Legolas Greenleaf. My father is Thranduil, King of Greenwood. With me is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the heir of Isildur; 4 hobbits of the Shire: Frodo Baggins, Samwise Gamgee, Meriadoc Brandybuck, and Peregrin Took; and six Gondorians: Boromir, son of the steward, Ioresth, Iorlas, Ioreas, and Itarilde, who is of elvish ancestry; Olorin the Different, Gandalf's student; and . . ." he faltered. "And a . . . dwarf."

The elf in the tree made a face of distaste, unnoticed by the Fellowship.

"I am Haldir of Lorien. Dwarves carry great evil, as does one of the periannath. You can go no further."

"Haldir o Lorien," pleaded Aragorn, "We have traveled a long way from Rivendell, and lost our guide, Gandalf the Grey, in the shadow of the mines of Moria. Therefore, I beg of you, please let us stay."

Haldir sighed heavily and climbed down from the tree with a rope ladder. Two other elves followed. "I will bring you to Lady Galadriel and lord Celeborn. They will decide."

"Hannon le," Said Legolas (thank you), "Govannas vin gwennen le." (our Fellowship stands in your debt)

"However," continued Haldir, "the dwarf must be blindfolded."

Gimli was infuriated. "What?! I am no spy. I refuse to be treated less than equally."

Haldir frowned. "This is our law. Your people of ancient days have created a barrier between Elves and Dwarves."

Gimli raised his ax. Harry, sensing trouble, shouted "petrificus totalus!" and sent Gimli crashing to the ground face first, just as Neville had done so many years back. Thinking of Neville, a wave of homesickness washed over him. Hogwarts was like his family. Would he ever get back?

His thoughts were interrupted as he noticed everyone staring at him.

"He-that's Gandalf's assistant-I mean student, Olorin the . . . different." Aragorn said hastily.

Haldir blindfolded Gimli as Harry muttered the counter-spell. All 3 Lorien elves regarded Harry with confusedness and mistrust. Nevertheless, though, they led the Fellowship into Lothlorien, Gimli grumbling all the way about hew he'd better not trip over any bumps.

"He'll probably sue if he trips over so much as an anthill." Itarilde whispered to Emily, who snorted in agreement. Neither could understand why dwarves were so touchy.

There were, of course, no bumps, anthills or no, in Lothlorien. They reached Caras Galadhon, after a long march up countless flights of stairs and stopped in front of a set of stone steps. A bright light appeared at the top. Well, two lights, actually, because one was Galadriel and the other was Celeborn. The Lady of the Wood shone of golden beauty. Her clothes were spotlessly white and her fair was as gold as the sun reflected in a pool of sparkling water. In her eyes were the light of the stars and the great wisdom of her years. Celeborn shone, too, though not of as much brilliance or _white_ness. His hair was a moonlight silver colour, and his eyes, too, betrayed the fact that he was older than he looked.

Celeborn spoke first. "There were 14 that were to set out. Here there are 13. Where is Gandalf? For I much desired to speak with him again."

Kel opened her mouth to respond, but Galadriel beat her to it. "Gandalf the Grey set out with the company, but he did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen into shadow."

"Wait." Said Neal. "How did you know that?"

Itarilde was appalled. "Neal!" she hissed, "Mind your manners! Do you know who you're speaking with?" she turned to Galadriel. "I apologize for my companion's insolence." She glared at Neal before continuing. "I hope you haven't been offended."

Galadriel was smiling. "And who might you be, young human? I would guess you are no more than 15 years of age."

Itarilde looked a bit nervous. Elves could be trusted, but she wasn't taking any chances. She had a feeling, that either way, Galadriel would see right through her. But what had she to lose?

"My name is Itarilde. I have ancestors among the Greenwood elves, but I have been born and raised in Gondor, as have my comrades, Iorlas, Ioreth, and Ioreas."

"I see." Said Galadriel. "Now, answer me truthfully. Do you and your companions really live in Middle-Earth?"

Itarilde swallowed hard. "No."

Emily poked her. "Um, why did you just say 'no'?"

Itarilde looked confused. "Because Galadriel asked me if we live in Middle-Earth. You heard her."

Emily shook her head. "I didn't hear anything."

They both looked at Galadriel, who was still smiling. Then they understood. Galadriel hadn't verbally spoken to Itarilde. She had spoken to her telepathically. Itarilde found this a bit creepy.

Galadriel moved on to the Ringbearer. "You carry a heavy burden," she told him, "your quest is know to us. Now, tell me what happened."

After Frodo gave a detailed explanation of what had happened since they'd left Rivendell, Galadriel said to them, "Your quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while the Company is true. But, do not let your hearts be troubled. Tonight you shall sleep in peace."

**Half an hour later . . . **

Now, we find the hobbits smoking pipe-weed, since that is all Sam has. Boromir, Kel, and Neal are talking quietly, and Gimli and Harry are asleep. Gimli is snoring. Aragorn, Legolas, Itarilde, and Emily are sitting in a small circle, laughing hysterically. Itarilde and Emily had decided to teach Aragorn and Legolas how to play "truth or dare" to lighten up the mood.

"Okay," said Itarilde, grinning wickedly, "Legolas, how much time to you spend every day taking care of your hair and face?"

Legolas grimaced. "Three hours brushing and washing my hair when I'm in Mirkwood, and 2 minutes when I'm elsewhere, away from my father. For the facial features, I spend one hour at home and none elsewhere."

Emily frowned. "What does your father have to do with all of this?"

Legolas made a "dying" face. "Have you ever seen my dad? He's twice as good-looking as me, and the only reason I spend so much time on 'personal hygiene' is that if I don't he will kill me for not living up to his reputation. Ah, how good it feels not to have to worry about my complexion right now! If my father could see this he would come and scold me on the spot, then shove a lot of facial products and shampoo in my arms and tell me to keep up the routine."

"O-kay. . ." Itarilde looked a bit scared. "Um, you're next Aragorn. Truth or dare?"

"Erm. . . dare."

Now Legolas was smiling. "Then I dare you to go into that corner over there," he pointed to a very dark corner, "ALONE, and sit, with your back facing us, for 10 _whole_ minutes."

Aragorn turned pale, much to Emily and Itarilde's interest. "But Legolas. . . "

Legolas gave him a friendly shove. "Go."

Aragorn stayed rooted to the spot. Eventually, the other 3 had to _push_ him over to the corner. That was no easy task.

"Geez, Aragorn!" exclaimed Itarilde. "How much do you weigh?"

"He probabaly weights at least as much as an oliphaunt." Replied Legolas.

"I resent that-ouch! Watch your foot! You kick hard!"

They finally got him to the corner. Aragorn was behaving very strangely. His eyes were shut really tight and he looked like he was about to wet himself. They left him there. A few seconds later, they heard whimpering and very off-tune singing:

"_Whenever I feel afraid,_

_I hold my head erect,_

_I whistle a happy tune,_

_So no one will suspect,_

_I'm afraaaaaaiddd."_

Emily, Itarilde, and Legolas stifled giggles. They didn't have to wait long before he came running out of the corner, with a white, tear-stained face.

"Legolas!" he whined, "how could you?"

Legolas smirked. "Oh, I couldn't resist showing my young companions how you seem to like dark places so much."

Aragorn, missing the sarcasm, cried, "Like them? You know very well I'm petrified of- " he stopped short when he saw Itarilde and Emily looking at him, laughter in their eyes.

"It's okay," said Itarilde, trying to keep a straight face, "you can tell us."

Aragorn sighed. "Okay. It began like this. Around 50 years ago, Elrohir and Elladan were playing hide-and-seek with me in Rivendell. It was quite a childish game, but Elrond's house had so many secret nooks and crannies, we just couldn't give it up."

"_Okay." Said Elrohir to his brothers, "you both have 15 seconds. Go."_

"_Fifteen seconds?!" exclaimed Aragorn as Elladan scurried off. "That's not enough time!"_

"_Ten seconds now." Elrohir grinned._

_Aragorn rolled his eyes and ran off. He found himself in the dining room. From outside he heard Elrohir yell, "I'm coming to find you!"_

_Quickly, Aragorn ducked under the dining table. It actually didn't offer that much protection; the tablecloth didn't even reach halfway to the floor, but he resolved that it would be better than the fireplace, where Elrohir had hid last time._

_Distinctly, he heard, "I've found you!" meaning both his brothers were now coming to look for him. He was about to shift to a more comfortable position under the table when suddenly, a huge gust of wind blew through the open windows of the house, extinguishing every candle, and leaving everything in pitch blackness._

_Aragorn stifled a scream of terror. He had always hated the dark, and this was not helping. He couldn't get out from under the table. His fear bound him in place, his fear of what was around him, in the darkness-_

"Hey, stop that!" Aragorn exclaimed at the giggling Emilys.

Emily choked. "Go on." She said, after a few tries.

Aragorn rolled his eyes.

_He stayed there, unmoving, for what seemed like an eternity, until the door creaked open. Harsh breathing was heard from directly in front of Aragorn, who was sure his heart had stopped beating. Then, a dark hand appeared. It groped around in the dark, reaching for Aragorn. And then. . . _

"Stop laughing!" Aragorn shouted at the hysterical girls.

Legolas took over the story, seeing as Aragorn would probably never finish.

_And then Aragorn let out the Queen of earsplitting shrieks, just as the hand grabbed him and said, "ha! Gotcha!"_

_Aragorn was shaking so badly that his breath was coming in short, ragged gasps. A candle was lit. A faint glow filled the room. Aragorn could move._

"_Are you okay?" Elladan's voice rang through Aragorn's ears, though he didn't hear a thing. _

"_Aragorn?" Slowly Aragorn's vision cleared and his ears stopped ringing. He found the twins grinning at him. They had somehow found out where he was hiding and had decided to give him the scare of his life._

"And they did, too. He had a weird twitch for the next 3 months." Legolas finished with a smirk.


	6. Freaky Galadriel

Chapter 6

Freaky Galadriel

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR, or Harry Potter, or Protector of the Small. I DO own Itarilde and Emily, my little inventions that shall haunt me for years to come.

In the middle of the night, Itarilde was suddenly awake. She wasn't sure why, but her instincts told her something was happening. She woke Emily up and the 2 of them walked to where a great light was forming. Galadriel was there, along with Frodo and Sam. She instructed Frodo to look into a mirror which she had filled with water. A few minutes later, he drew back, apparently startled.

"I know what you saw," Galadriel told him, "for it is also in my mind. The mirror holds strange things, things that were, things that are, and things that have not yet come to pass. You saw a white wizard, traveling down a weathered road. You saw Bilbo, back in the Shire. You saw many things of your past, and a sea, with a ship bearing torn sails. You saw also the White City and Tree of Gondor, and you saw _him._"

"Who's _he_?" asked Itarilde.

Frodo and Sam jumped. They hadn't noticed Itarilde and Emily, nor heard their approach. Galadriel looked grim, unlike her usual, smiling, self.

"He saw Sauron, creator of the One Ring."

Emily frowned. "So then something is going to happen to Gondor isn't it?"

"I can't tell you that." Said Galadriel. "You will find out."

Frodo looked frightened and desperate, desperate to get away from the evil of the Ring. He knew he would meet the same end as all the others who had carried this burden, willfully or not.

"I-I'll give the Ring to you." He said to Galadriel. "It will be safe here."

Galadriel smiled. "I am greatly tempted. At last, it would come to me. That you would give me the Ring. And in place of the dark lord you would have a queen. I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the morning and night. Stronger than the foundations of the earth. _All shall love me and despair_!"

With every word she seemed to grow taller and brighter, and in her eyes suddenly a wild fire was raging. The Emilys looked at each other and wondered if the Lady of the Wood was truly on their side. From the looks of things, she certainly seemed ready to seize the Ring.

Then, before their eyes, she seemed to shrink back to her normal size, and the fire in her eyes was doused.

_What on earth was _that_ all about? _Wondered Itarilde.

"I pass the test." Galadriel said quietly. "I will diminish, and go into the west, and remain Galadriel."

She walked away before anyone could question her about what had just happened, leaving 2 hobbits and 2 girls to ponder it late into the night.

At dawn Celeborn woke them. "You must leave in a few hours." He said.

Everyone was rather startled. They had expected to stay in Lothlorien for at least a few more days. Immediately they had to start packing.

The Fellowship was given 5 elven paddle boats. In each boat was a coil of rope, and many elves were packing supplies into it. Among these were dozens of packages of strange-looking bread. Kel held one up and sniffed it. Just the scent of it sent ripples of warmth flowing through her body and her weariness of travel vanished.

"What _is _this?" she asked, putting the package down.

Legolas smiled. "It's called lembas, elvish waybread. One bite is enough to fill a grown man's stomach, and one whole wafer will last you through the day."

Neal whistled. "Wow, if we could get this kind of bread to Corus, they'd have no trouble gathering food rations to bring to war."

About an hour later, Galadriel and Celeborn stood before the Company. They presented each with an elven cloak. It had a beautiful leaf-shaped brooch at the top, and an enchantment woven into them, so that in the dark they would appear grey, among trees they were green, brown at night, and silver under the stars.

Celeborn looked at them approvingly. "Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people."

Then Galadriel presented each member of the Fellowship with individual gifts. To Merry and Pippin she gave beautiful silver elven belts. To Aragorn she gave a sheath with a pattern of golden flowers and leaves. To Legolas she gave a bow and quiver. She presented Boromir, Kel, and Neal with belts of gold, and Harry with a small glass ball, about the size of half his fist. She looked at him strangely before moving on to Sam, to whom she gave a small wooden box, containing earth of her orchard. She went over to the Emilys and looked them in the eye. Because they looked so much alike, they were given identical brooches in the form of elanor, the golden flower in Lorien. And finally, she turned to Frodo.

"I give you the light of Earendil's star." She said, presenting him with a crystal phial. "May it be a light for you, when all other lights go out."

The she asked Gimli, "And you, master dwarf? I have prepared nothing special for you. What do you desire?"

Gimli blushed a scarlet colour. "Nothing, my Lady. That is-if I could-have a single strand of hair from your golden head."

Galadriel looked startled, but cut 3 strands of hair gave them to Gimli, saying, "Treasure these, master dwarf, and remember Galadriel."

Gimli blushed even deeper, if it was possible. "Oh, I will, my Lady! They will forever be found close to my heart, as my feelings for you are!"

Itarilde pressed her lips together, shaking in silent laughter, and desperately trying to hide it. Emily was having the same trouble. They waited until they were in the boats, then burst out laughing, unable to contain themselves anymore.

Aragorn, steering their boat, jumped. "What?!?!" he fairly shouted, taken unaware by their incessant and sudden laughter. "If this is about what happened last night. . ."

"No." gasped Itarilde.

"Then what is it?"

Itarilde smirked. "Has Gimli always flirted in that manner, or was it just the _astounding beauty _of Lady Galadriel that pushed him over the edge?"

"If I didn't know better," said Emily, "I'd say that Gimli has a _major _crush on Galadriel."

"Just watch," Itarilde informed Aragorn, "in a few years, when this is all over, Celeborn will die a mysterious and inexplicable death, and Galadriel will be forced to remarry-to Gimli. Against her will, of course, but compelled by his-shall I say-_hypnotic_ powers. And somehow, just somehow, Gimli will know all the details of her late husband's death." The 2 burst into giggles again.

_Good thing they can still find their sense of humor. _Aragorn thought. He had a feeling that in a little while things would be very different. War was approaching.

A/N: Did you like it? Please review!!!


	7. Along the Great River

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR, or Harry Potter, of Kel, or Neal.ButI do own Emily and Itarilde.

A/N: Sorry the update took so long. Our internet was kind of screwy.

Chapter 7

Along the Great River

The Fellowship rowed. . . and rowed. Isn't that a horrible start to a chapter? Anyway, Aragorn, Itarilde, and Emily were at the front of the pack, followed by Legolas and Gimli in one boat and Kel, Frodo, and Sam in another. And lastly, there was Neal and Harry and Boromir, Merry and Pippin. Everyone was talking quietly to the people in their boat, but Harry remained strangely silent.

"What's wrong?" Neal asked him.

Harry shook his head. "I was just thinking of Gandalf." He said. "I could have prevented his death. I'm a wizard, too. But my own fear kept me from doing it. There are so many things I could have done. . ."

"No." said Aragorn firmly. "It wasn't your fault. None of us could have done anything. At the Council in Rivendell Elrond forewarned Gandalf of his doom. You have to understand Harry, it was his fate."

Harry shook his head again. "I could have-I _should_ have done something." He began to cry. "I've seen enough deaths in 14 years to last me a lifetime. I keep thinking that maybe I could have done something to stop if. And now, we don't have a guide." He continued to sob.

Aragorn pretended to look insulted. "I'm not _that_ bad, am I? I've been a Ranger for as long as I can remember."

Neal was about to make a crude remark when rapids in the river made their boats bump up and down in a jarring motion. The boat that Kel was in nearly tipped over, but from behind Legolas and Gimli crashed into them and set their boat back on course.

The rapids were treacherous, and the Company spent 2 hours working their way through them, holding their breath, wondering when they would end.

Eventually, the water calmed, and they moored the boats at a shore. As soon as they were on land, Itarilde dropped down onto her back, wanting to simply wake up from this nightmare. Her arms felt like they were on fire, or worse, like soggy spaghetti on fire. She had strained her arms rowing through the rapids, and her head spun from the hard work. She wanted to find herself back at home, in bed, with pillows and much desired comfort. But, she thought as she settled against a tree trunk, while I'm here, I'll have to make do. And with that wonderful thought in mind, she drifted off into dreams of reading in front of the fireplace, with a cup of hot liquid in front of her.

When Itarilde woke she found it was nighttime. Everyone else was asleep. Save for Aragorn. He was on watch duty, as always. She walked quietly up to him and asked, "Don't you ever get tired of doing that every night?"

Aragorn jumped. He had gotten a lot jumpier lately.

"It's easier to think when it's quiet." He told her.

"But doesn't the lack of sleep ever get to you?"

Aragorn thought for a moment. Did it? He covered a yawn and mumbled something about getting used to it.

"Wait a minute-aren't you afraid of the dark?"

Aragorn began to lose his patience. "Do you ever get tired of asking questions?"

"Never."

The Ranger sighed. Truth to tell, he wasn't sure how he could stay up the entire night, in the dark, thinking, when a dark room frightened him so much.

"I guess I don't mind when there's a full moon, and things to think about."

Then his eyes seemed to glaze over and it looked to Itarilde as if he was reminiscing about something that had taken place long ago.

"Arwen." He whispered. "Velen le."

Itarilde looked at him questioningly. Aragorn sighed.

"When my father Arathorn was slain by an orc, my mother took me to Rivendell. At that time I was only 2 years old. We lived in the house of Elrond, and Elrond himself became like my father, loving me as if I were his son."

Itarilde could not imagine Elrond loving anyone. There was no mercy in his eyes, and he was stern and intimidating in character. He never seemed to do anything but frown and disagree.

"He named me Estel and when I was 21 years old, he gave me my inheritances: the Ring of Barahir and the shards of Narsil. And then, the next evening. . ."

_Aragorn walked alone in the woods. A feeling of subtle loneliness washed over him and he found himself wishing he had a companion walking with him. Then, suddenly, a beautiful woman appeared, clothed in silver and blue, with long, dark hair. Aragorn shook his head. He must have been dreaming. But the image stayed real, and the lady came over to him, saying, "Who are you?"_

"_I am Aragorn, Arathorn's son, Isildur's heir, Lord of the Dunedain." He answered, never taking his eyes off her._

_She laughed, and a musical sound filled the woods. "I am Arwen Undomiel, Elrond's daughter."_

_Aragorn frowned. "But if Elrond is your father, then how can it be that I have never seen you here before?"_

_Arwen waved her hand in the direction of the Misty Mountains. It was then that Aragorn noticed her grace and composure. "I have been in Lothlorien, visiting my mother's kin. It has been a long while since I have come back to Imladris."_

_Aragorn gaped. "But how- I mean, you look. . ."_

_Arwen smiled. "The children of Elrond have the life of the Eldar."_

_And from that day on, Aragorn knew he loved her._

"My mother told me my aim was too high, that Arwen was too highly ranked to be suited to me, and Elrond said that Arwen was to live out her long life. To wed me was to mean her death, her becoming mortal." He touched the Evenstar pendant around his neck before continuing. "Then many years passed and I saw her no more until I came upon the woods of Lorien. We stayed together for a few months, the happiest few months of my life. Then, I had to leave. We said farewell on the hill of Cerin Amroth. It was then that Arwen made her decision to become mortal. Her father wasn't too happy though. He wanted Arwen to go with him to the Undying Lands, when the time came. Although he did say that Arwen would marry no less than the King of Gondor and Arnor."

Itarilde glanced at Aragorn. He was still staring at the stars, yet he seemed more sorrowful than he had been when she had first snuck up on him.

"You don't want to be a king?"

He shook his head. "I like my life right now. The responsibility of being a king is too great for me. I do not wish for all the attention."

"But don't you love her?"

Aragorn was seriously getting tired of all these questions. Why couldn't she just leave him alone?

"Of course I do!" he snapped, his patience long evaporated. There was an edge to his voice that Itarilde had never heard before.

Her eyes widened. She'd said too much. Quickly, she got up and hurried back to the camp before her mouth could blurt out any more. Aragorn watched her leave, thinking, "What have I done?"

When Itarilde got back to the camp she found that not everyone was asleep. Harry was sitting a few yards away, staring at the glass ball that Galadriel had given him, wondering what it was. She walked over to him and sat down.

"Do you know what this is?" Harry asked her.

Itarilde shook her head.

"Galadriel said I could use it only if I looked inside myself. What does that mean?"

Itarilde shook her head again. She had not idea, and decided just to go back to bed.

Harry stayed awake long into the night, trying to figure out what the object in his hand was.

The next morning dawned bright and early, and the Company set out as the first streaks of sun appeared over the horizon. They rowed a lot more, though they encountered few rapids on the way.

Emily frowned. There was something, well, two somethings, looming in the distance. As they rowed closer, everyone could see 2 great stone statues, one on either side of the river, holding their left hands up in warning, and glaring into the distance. There was a stone crown on each head and both seemed terribly intimidating.

"Here are the Argonath, the Pillars of the Kings." Said Aragorn.

They passed the statues, but Neal could have sworn they were still glaring at the Fellowship.

End of chapter

A/N: I'm sorry to all the Harry fans. I had to make him break down. . .


	8. Crazy elf on the warpath

Chapter 8

Crazy elf on the warpath and food fight

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR or Harry Potter, or Tamora Pierce's characters. But, I do own Itarilde and Emily, my little inventions.

A/N: PLEASE!!!!! REVIEW!!!! I need to know whether my story is any good!

They stopped at another bank to rest. A short distance away from them was the Great Watchtower of Amon Hen. It was freezing, being right by the river and being there at the beginning of the year. Boromir started to light a fire. Everyone sat around the soon-to-be fire. Nothing happened. Boromir was rubbing flintstone on a rock, as hard as he could, but not a spark was produced. Perhaps it was because his hands were shaking so much from the cold, or that the rock was a little damp.

Eventually, Harry grew impatient. His teeth were chattering and he was numb and shivering all over. He decided to light the fire using a spell of Hermione's. Unfortunately, though, he had never quite mastered it. He lit the fire, as well as a lock of Legolas' hair, which had been dangling just above the rock.

Legolas stared at the flame in horror, before his mind actually registered what was going on. Itarilde took a bucket of ice-cold water from the nearby river, and dumped its contents all over the now hysterical Legolas. He stood there, dripping wet, glaring at Itarilde and Harry. He began to chase them, still soaked to the bone.

"Crazy elf on the warpath!" Itarilde shouted as she and Harry ran for their lives. The others watched in amusement as Legolas finally caught them and knocked them to the ground. He glared at them one last time, before walking off to the fire to dry off, leaving the 2 teenagers laughing on the ground.

"Crazy elf on the warpath indeed." Aragorn muttered good-naturedly.

He wandered over to Itarilde. "I want to . . . apologize for what happened last night. I didn't mean to lose my temper like that."

Itarilde looked surprised. "You had every right to. I was poking into affairs that were not my own. Sorry."

Aragorn argued. "I should be sorry. As a grown man I should not have such a short temper."

Now Itarilde looked upset. "No! It was _my _fault!"

Legolas suddenly popped up. "Let's just say both of you share the blame so you can STOP arguing!"

"Food!" cried Sam, from the fire, and everyone hurried over. He piled their plates high with a brown glop.

Emily wasn't too sure _what_ she was eating, but it was making her gag. She had a feeling the meat was only partially cooked. Frodo sighed. Everyone looked at him. When he appeared to have nothing to say, Aragorn spoke for him.

"It has now come the time when we will have to make the decision. Either to follow Frodo to Mordor or to go to Minas Tirith with Boromir."

"Come with me!" said Boromir. "It is not much further to Mordor than from here."

"The Ringbearer should choose." Legolas said quietly. He was still dripping. Looking at his grave face, and his sopping clothes, Emily had to stifle a giggle.

Frodo sighed heavily. At times it seemed as if the weight of the world was pushing him down. Actually, now that he thought about it, it really was. If he didn't destroy the Ring Middle-Earth would fall, and Sauron would conquer all.

"I need to go and think." He mumbled, then walked off into the woods. Boromir never took his gaze off until Frodo disappeared behind the trees.

Neal put down his plate of food. "We are in serious need of some comic relief here."

He grabbed his spoon and flung some of the unidentifiable meat (if it was even meat) in Kel's direction. Kel screamed as the food hit her face. Then, taking her spoon, she catapulted the gross stuff right back at him, landing it in his hair. Emily jumped right in, happily dumping her entire plate on Gimli. The stuff was completely inedible anyway.

In all the confusion, Boromir slipped away after Frodo, unnoticed by anyone else.

Legolas, Sam and Itarilde hid among the bushes, not wanting to be assaulted with the flying projectiles. Sam, not used to watching his food become weapons of warfare, was almost in tears. Legolas patted him sympathetically.

Eventually, when pretty much everyone was covered in meat, the food fight ceased, and people had to change out of their soiled clothes and wash the stuff off. Legolas, Sam, and Itarilde came out to help them clean up. The Itarilde, Emily, and Kel washed the dirty clothes in the river while everyone else erased all traces of their presence.

When they were done Itarilde and Emily unsheathed their elven swords and asked Aragorn to coach them while they practiced. The ranger leaned back lazily against a tree trunk, chewing a blade of grass, giving tips now and then.

"Emily, you have to get more power into your swing." He stood up and demonstrated with his sword. "Otherwise you give the enemy too much time to attack you. Itarilde, your swing, on the other hand, could use a bit less force and more control. A lot more control."

At the moment Itarilde was thrusting all of her strength into her sword, and the follow through of the movement was throwing her completely off balance and sent her stumbling, usually into something. Emily snickered as her friend hit a tree for the third time. Itarilde shot her a well-practiced death glare, and then practiced laboriously for the next half hour, until she finally executed the swing well enough for her own standards.

Eventually, the Fellowship gathered around the dying fire. It was then that Sam noticed something.

"Where's Boromir? And oughtn't mister Frodo be back by now?"

A/N: PLEASE! I beg you again, review! I need motivation or else I won't be motivated to write this story! And I need to know if this story is any good. And. . . this is getting pathetic. I'm kinda desperate. But, please review!


	9. The counselor of Minas Tirith

Chapter 9

The counselor of Minas Tirith

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, Harry Potter, or Kel or Neal. I own Emily and Itarilde. And the ideas that aren't Tolkien's.

A/N: This is one of my favourite chapters, because it's long. . . well, longer than my other chapters, anyway.

Frodo sat miserably upon a log, unmoving and undecided. He didn't want to make a decision, but he knew in his heart that his journey-his destiny- was to travel east to Mordor. Footsteps crunched in the ground behind him. He spun around, Sting in hand, but relaxed when he saw the friendly face of Boromir. Later, though, when he thought back on it, he should have been as scared of Boromir as he was of anyone else.

"You should not wander alone." Said Boromir. "Not when so much depends on you."

"I needed to think." Frodo replied.

"So have you made your decision? Are you coming to Minas Tirith?"

Frodo looked up into Boromir's eyes. There was a gleam of eagerness which he had never seen before. He kept silent.

"You need counsel in your hard choice. I can give it to you."

The gleam was still there, bigger and brighter than before.

"I think I already know what counsel you would give, Boromir, and it would seem like wisdom but for the warning in my heart."

"Warning? Against what?" His voice had a sharp edge to it, slicing coldly through the end-of-February air.

Frodo responded warily, "A warning against the road that seems easier, more convenient. Sauron expects me to take that road. What if Minas Tirith fails?"

Boromir put his hand on Frodo's shoulder. "There is still hope."

Frodo shook his head. "Not while the Ring lasts."

"The Ring!" now Boromir's entire face was betraying his thoughts, and Frodo was becoming frightened. "Now that you speak of it, I would request of you something. I need the Ring for Gondor. Will you at least lend it to me?"

Frodo backed away, his eyes widening. "No. The council laid it upon me to bear it."

Now Boromir looked angry. "Fool! This is your chance to dispose of your burden. It is not yours anyway. It could have been anyone's. It should be mine. Give it to me!"

Frodo started running away from Boromir. Unfortunately, it was not long before he tripped over a tree root and Boromir pinned him down. Terrified, he slipped on the Ring and ran off.

"I see your mind!" Boromir shouted at Frodo. "It's a conspiracy! You will take the Ring to Sauron and betray us all!"

Then he stepped on a moss covered log and banged his head into the hollow of a tree. Squirrels scurried out, squeaking furiously, then seeing his size and stature, meekly retreated back into the tree trunk. Watching the squirrels run from him reminded him of Frodo.

"What have I said? Frodo, please come back! Frodo!"

Frodo kept on running, heeding not the pleading tones of the Gondorian, until he reached the summit of Amon Hen. There was a high seat, surrounded by 4 pillars. It was the Seat of Seeing. He climbed up the stairs and, moved by a sudden impulse, sat down in the chair. He could see just about the entire world. To the east were empty plains and unfamiliar forests. To the north he could see the Great River Anduin and the Misty Mountains. To the west was Rohan, and Isengard, and the Tower of Orthanc. To the south was seen the Great River and the falls of Rauros. But everywhere he looked, he could see war.

He saw Minas Tirith. Again, he was tempted to go there, and be safe, but one glace at the Land of Shadow told him that he would never be safe, not while the Ring was alive and thriving (well, it has a mind of its own; why can't it be alive? _Alive. . . . _ANYWAY. . . ).

When he looked east, he could see Barad-dur, the Dark Tower, and it seemed as if the ye was looking upon him at that moment. It took all his will power to wrench it off his finger. He knew what he had to do. Galadriel's words echoed in his mind. _"Your quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while all the Company is true."_

_But now I have seen the power of the Ring, _He told himself. _It has taken Boromir. I must go to Mt. Doom alone. I cannot risk letting anyone else become consumed by it._ And so he began to make his journey back to the boats.

Back at the camp everyone was waiting for Frodo. Over an hour had passed since he had gone off, and the others were starting to worry. Suddenly Boromir came back.

"Where _have_ you been?!" demanded Emily.

"Have you seen Frodo?" asked Sam.

Boromir nodded, somewhat sadly. "Yes, but he ran away from me."

"_All right_." said Itarilde, furious at him. _"What have you done to him?!"_

"I tried to pressure him to come to Minas Tirith." Boromir stepped back from the raging Itarilde who's temper was quite short.

"_AND THEN?!?!_"

Boromir sighed. "Then he put on the Ring and ran off."

Sam's eyes widened. "Boromir, you idiot! Why in the name of Gondor would you do that?!"

"We must go find him!" Merry and Pippin ran off.

"That might be hard, seeing as he _is _invisible." Emily commented bitterly, and went off with Itarilde in search of Frodo, though not before she threw Boromir a dirty look and a rude gesture.

Aragorn looked more upset than angry. "Boromir, go make sure they keep out of trouble. I don't know what you've done, but it can't be good."

Boromir ran after Merry and Pippin, followed by Kel and Neal.

Sam started sprinting up the hill, as fast as his short legs would carry him. Legolas and Gimli had also disappeared.

Aragorn sighed. They would all be scattered and lost.

"Come on, Harry." He started tracking Frodo's footprints.

Then, quite suddenly, orcs came charging from the trees.

_**Meanwhile. . . **_

"Frodo!" yelled Pippin. "Frodo! Where are you?"

Merry grabbed his arm. "What's that sound? Do you hear it?"

Both hobbits strained their ears, and, sure enough, they could hear the loud marching of orcs. Pippin panicked at once, and bolted, running as far as he could away from the orcs, Merry right on his heels. In doing so, he crashed into Frodo, who was hiding behind a tree trunk.

"Frodo! Where have you-" Pippin stopped short when he saw the look on Frodo's face. It was more dreamy than usual, faraway and sad, though with a hint of peace and resolution. He had finally come to his decision.

"I must leave," he whispered.

The stomping of the orcs could be heard. They were getting closer.

"Go back to the boats," Marry said to Frodo in hushed tones. "We'll keep them away from you."

Frodo nodded, full of gratitude for his friends, and rushed off.

The orcs could now be seen, great, looming shadows in the dark canopy of trees. Merry took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. This was it.

"Hey! You stupid, ugly, orcs! Over here!"

"Elephant feet!" Pippin added.

Both he and Merry ran as fast as they could, leading the orcs away from the direction in which Frodo had gone. They kept running, never daring to pause to catch their breath. Then, many dozen orcs jumped out from behind the shrubbery and surrounded them. This was surely the end. An orc raised his sword. Pippin shut his eyes, expecting to feel his head detaching from his body as the blow descended on him-but it never did. Boromir leaped out of the trees and blocked the sword with his own. He took a deep breath and blew into his horn-the horn of Gondor. The sound echoed through the forest. The orcs paused for a moment, then, when no one came, they attacked again. Between blocks and thrusts, Boromir blew his horn as loud as he could, but no one came.

"Oh, where are they?" wailed Pippin.

Merry picked up a sizeable stone and threw it at the nearest orc. Pippin followed suit. Still no help came. A very ugly orc drew his bow. Merry was the only one that saw this.

"Boromir! Watch out!"

Boromir turned, just in time to see the orc release the arrow. It imbedded itself in Boromir's shoulder. Uttering a cry of pain, he stood still for a moment. At first Pippin was sure he would die right then and there, but to the surprise of everyone, he raised his sword and continued fighting, killing orcs here and there. The ugly orc raised his bow again. This time the shot hit Boromir in the stomach. Once again, time seemed to stand still as he stood there, stunned. Then he went on fighting, still killing more orcs. The ugly orc who had provided Boromir with 2 arrows curled up his lips in a horrible smile.

"So long, mortal." He growled and fired again.

Boromir found himself with another arrow, this time in his chest. The pain was unbearable. He sank to his knees, unable to do anything but watch everything go by. Two orcs grabbed Merry and Pippin and carried them off. The rest were about to follow when a rustling was heard from behind the ugly orc. Kel and Neal charged through, swords unsheathed. They were caught by surprise. Numerous orcs charged at them in return. Two orcs kicked the swords out of their hands with their iron shod feet and two more carried them off, but not before throwing them around a little and having a little fun with their swords. All the orcs charged past Boromir, not paying any attention to the fallen man among them. Only one orc was left. His drew back his arrow. . .

By this time Frodo had already made it to the boats and was rowing away from the shore. Sam came stumbling to the shoreline.

"Mister Frodo! You ain't goin' nowhere without me!"

Frodo looked back sadly. "No, Sam. I'm going alone."

"'Course you are! And I'm going with you!"

_What part of _I'm going alone _did he not understand? _Frodo wondered, then watched, horrified as Sam started wading into the water.

"Sam! You can't swim!" Frodo watched, frightened, as his faithful gardener attempted to make his way over to the boat. He started rowing back immediately, which was a wise decision, as Sam's weight began to drag him down, under the water. Frantically, he struggled, but the water did not give in. It pulled relentlessly at his clothes. Then he felt something pull him up, quite literally by the scruff of his neck. Then-air, wonderful air, filled his lungs. He found himself in Frodo's boat, shivering from head to toe. But what mattered were that they were together, and they would journey together off into the east, to the Land of the Shadow.

Itarilde hid in the bushed, terrified. Orcs were everywhere. She could see Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, and even Harry bravely fighting them. She was rather appalled by her own cowardice. She had not come on this mission to hide at the first sign of danger.

_But I'll die out there! _she thought. Then another voice came into her head, one more convincing and taunting. _So what? _It said, _Everyone else is risking their lives. Who are you to stay hidden? _

Ignoring the small voice that protested, she sighed in resignation and unsheathed her sword, stepping out into the open. To her surprise, no orcs came to attack her. Feeling a bit foolish, standing around with her sword in hand, she ran over to where Aragorn was fighting alone and actually killed a few orcs, with her _controlled _swing. An orc swaggered up to her, blood dripping down his hideous face.

"Bit young to be fighting, aren't you?" he grinned. "Girls your age are useless and weak." His grin widened as he raised his crude sword. "Let's take care of that problem and dispose of you."

He'd gone too far. Rage boiled up inside of Itarilde. He confident voice angered her to the point that her temper got the better of her and, instead of just stabbing the orc, she swung her sword, ignoring all the practicing she'd done to accomplish a nice and controlled swing, and beheaded the orc, sending her crashing into Emily, who had just appeared behind her.

"Sorry," Itarilde was still seething. She glared at the corpse, feeling an irresistible urge to kick it continually. Emily glanced at Itarilde's face and knew right away what she was thinking.

"Don't, Emily" Emily said to her friend. "He's not worth it."

A/N: Remember that Itarilde is elvish for Emily, and Emily2 is used to calling Emily1 "Emily," not "Itarilde," so she didn't call her Itarilde, although everyone else does. Anyway, to continue. . .

Itarilde was about to reply that it wasn't a question of whether he was worth it or not, but for her own self satisfaction, when, loud and clear, the horn of Boromir rang from quite a distance away. Aragorn immediately started fighting his way over, followed by Itarilde and Emily.

A few minutes later they found Boromir facing an orc. This orc had punctured Boromir with 3 arrows and was about to fire another. With a cry of rage Aragorn lunged at the orc, cutting off his arm. The orc stared at the disembodied part in surprise, then engaged himself in violent swordplay with Aragorn, who eventually beheaded him.

All 3 of them ran over to Boromir, who was in intense pain. His breath came in short, ragged gasps and blood was streaming down the front of his torso.

"I tried to take the Ring from him." He said. "They have taken Merry and Pippin, as well as Kel and Neal."

"Have you seen Frodo?" Aragorn asked.

"No." answered Boromir. He looked panicked. "Where has he gone?" He desperately tried to sit up, but fell back down in pain. "Have the orcs gotten him?"

"He's fine, Boromir," Emily told him, evidently trying to convince herself as well as the Gondorian.

Boromir tried to sit up again. "Are you sure-" he was cut off as Itarilde and Emily pushed him down firmly.

"Go in peace, Boromir. Minas Tirith shall not fall." Aragorn assured him.

"And sorry I yelled at you," added Itarilde.

Boromir smiled slightly and was gone. Legolas, Gimli, and Harry appeared just in time to see Aragorn kiss Boromir's forehead in farewell.

"What happened?" Harry asked, and then looked at Boromir. "Oh."

As everyone else gathered up their supplies, Aragorn took one of their elven boats and laid Boromir inside of it. He pushed it into the water and watched it drift off.

"So our Fellowship breaks." Aragorn said. "Now we have the choice of following Frodo to Mordor, or rescuing the captured. What do you think?"

"We cannot just leave them at the mercy of the orcs!" Emily exclaimed.

"The Ring was Frodo's burden." Legolas said. "It is he who must destroy it, not us."

Everyone agreed.

"Then we must pursue them immediately." Gimli said, referring to the Merry, Pippin, Kel, and Neal. "For we have already lost many hours."

"Leave everything that can be left." Aragorn ordered. "We will be running on foot."

Emily and Itarilde groaned, sure they were never going to survive.

A/N: Please, review! Make me happy!


	10. The Riders of Rohan

Chapter 10

The Riders of Rohan

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, or Harry Potter, or Kel or Neal.

* * *

Emily lay flat on her back, panting heavily. They had run for 3 hours straight, and while it was fine for an elf to endure, she felt that she was not yet ready to keep going. In other words, she never wanted to use her legs again. Itarilde and Harry were not faring much better. They all had gone uphill, downhill, climbed rocks, all without stopping for a breath. 

Aragorn and Legolas watched the suffering adolescents and started whispering ferociously to each other.

"They're so young, we can't make them do this! Look at them, Estel!"

Aragorn sighed. "I know Legolas, but we have to keep going. Tired or not, they must keep up."

"Aragorn, they won't make it any further without killing themselves, and we can't carry them! It's all as well for you to say we have to keep going, but might I remind you that you are over 70 years older?"

"Well, what do you suggest we do then?"

Legolas looked down. "I don't know."

Suddenly Itarilde and Emily came up between them. Aragorn studied them carefully. They were drenched with sweat, even in this cold weather. Their faces were worn with fatigue, and both had scratched all over them from where tree branches had scraped them. Yet, somewhere, far into the brown well of their eyes, was a spark of determination, of hope to succeed and take on the hurdles ahead.

"We can keep going." Said Emily. "We won't hinder you."

"If you really-"

"No! interrupted Itarilde forcefully. "We haven't done anything useful so far, and the least we can do is not make this any worse. Besides," she said with a lopsided grin, "I have my pride."

Aragorn smiled. "All right, then. Let's get going."

They toiled on. It was torturous for the 3 teenagers, and even hard on the dwarf. A while later Aragorn called them to a halt. It was well into the night, and everyone was happy to stop.

"Look!" Legolas pointed to a small trail of orc-blood on the ground. It lead to 5 dead orcs, all killed gruesomely. Aragorn checked their tracks, and they set off again. Eventually dawn grew and the sun rose, and Harry realized that they had been running for the entire night. Suddenly, he tripped over a large rock. As he painfully peeled himself from the ground, something caught his eye. The newly-risen sun was reflecting off something in the dirt. It was an elven brooch of Lorien. Thinking it was his own, that he had dropped when he tripped, he picked it up. It was only then that he noticed he still had his on him. Then what-

"Aragorn!" he said wearily. Aragorn came over and inspected the brooch.

"They're still alive! March on, march on!"

They continued at a pace that was actually much faster than a march. It was nightfall when Aragorn finally allowed them to rest. Itarilde and Emily fell asleep at once, but Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli stayed awake, discussing their choice of routes. Harry sat a few feet away, tired, yet not really wanting to sleep. He took out Galadriel's glass ball and stared at it. It remained bright and clear, pure and shining. Then for a fleeting moment, the image changed, portraying a galloping white horse, painted onto a dark background. Then it disappeared, as quickly as it had come.

_Great, _he thought, _just what I need: to be seeing illusions._

As it turned out, though, Harry was not seeing things, and if he had looked again, he would have seen the horse clearer than before, only this time it would have stayed.

They next morning they rose at dawn and continued their pursuit. Not half an hour after they had started, Legolas told everyone to stop. Wondering what was going on, and yet glad to halt, the other 5 obeyed.

"There are riders coming toward us." He announced. "One hundred and five in total, but no hobbits, and 5 empty saddles. They are 5 leagues away."

Aragorn sighed. "I fear we have failed out search. We'll just have to wait for them to come to us, and give us news."

Itarilde frowned. "Do you know them, Aragorn?"

"I have been among them." He answered, and would say no more.

"They approach." Legolas told them.

The riders stopped their mounts as they passed by, surrounding them, spears out and bows drawn.

"What new from the north, riders of Rohan?" Aragorn asked.

Harry gasped. The banners that the riders carried had the exact same design as he had seen in the glass ball last night. Now he took it out, and saw the horse, but now it was moving, not across a dark background, but on expanses of green fields, like the wind over the trees.

"Who are you, and what business do you have in this land?" one of the riders asked. He was the tallest and had real horsehair coming from the top of his helmet.

"I am Strider of the North." Aragorn replied calmly, not reacting to the spear pointed at his chest only scant inches away. "I am hunting orcs. But before we tell our tale, I would like to know whom you serve. Are you friend or foe of Sauron, the dark lord of Mordor?"

"You should not speak of the Dark one." The man said coldly, "And as for me, I am Eomer son of Eomund, the Third Marshal of Riddermark, and I serve only Theoden King, son of Thengel. Who are you, though? Who do you serve? And why do you hunt orcs?"

"I am Itarilde of Gondor, and we serve no man, but hunt the orcs because they have taken 4 of our companions." Itarilde said.

"Who are the others?"

"I am Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood. With me is Ioreth or Gondor, Gimli son of Gloin, and Olorin the Different, Gandalf the Grey's student."

Eomer's face darkened. "Gandalf the Grey is not welcome here. He took out most precious steed, Shadowfax, and when the horse was returned, he could not be handled."

Emily glared. "You hold a grudge against someone who lives no longer. Gandalf fell into darkness in the mines of Moria."

Aragorn broke up the tension. "Have you seen orcs passing by?"

"We have." Said Eomer." But they are destroyed. We have burned them."

"Have you seen our friends?"

"We have found none but orcs."

"Did you search the bodies?" Harry pressed. "Two of them are very small."

Eomer frowned. "We found no children."

Gimli protested. "They weren't children or dwarves. They were hobbits. Halflings."

Eomer shook his head and then sighed. "I will lend you 5 mounts. You may search for your friends. But when you have succeeded, or failed, you must bring them to Meduseld, the high house in Edoras, where Theoden sits."

Aragorn nodded. Then Eomer led a dark dappled-grey horse, at least 18 hands high, over to Aragorn. "This is Hasufel." Then he led a light grey horse to Legolas. "This is Arod. He is smaller than Hasufel, but well bear you well." Going over to Emily, he presented her with a palomino gelding. "His name is Estel, elvish for hope. I do not know who name him, but it is unusual to have a horse with an Elvish name in Edoras."

Aragorn smiled faintly, remembering all the years he had spent in Rivendell, and growing slightly homesick.

"We have 2 other horses bearing no names. They were found in the wild, then tamed by us, but we have never given any name to them." Eomer put the reins of a chestnut mare into Itarilde's hands. The horse had 4 socks and a star on her head. The star reminded Itarilde of Galadriel.

"I shall call you Galad." She whispered to the horse. (Galad is elvish for "light")

Eomer handed Harry a light grey mare, a shade darker than Arod. Then he noticed Gimli, standing rather uncomfortable beside Legolas.

"My dear dwarf, I'm afraid we have no spare mounts."

"I would much rather walk than be seated on the back of a horse." Was Gimli's reply.

Legolas shook his head. "Gimli, son of Gloin, you shall ride with me. Arod can bear us both."

"That's settled then." Eomer signaled to his men. "Remember to bring the horses back to Meduseld. I'm risking my own head, lending these horses to you, so do not fail me."

With that, he led his Riders away, galloping at breakneck speed over expanses of green fields, like the wind over the trees.

Harry jumped. _Wasn't that what I saw in the glass ball?_ He wondered, _What does this mean?_

He then looked his mount over. She stood well over 16 hands high, not as tall as Hasufel, but still much taller than the horses they had ridden in Rivendell. He put his foot in the stirrup and tried to pull himself up by the mane, and failing. Aragorn placed Gimli in Arod's saddle before helping him. Everyone else had already mounted. Harry watched in amazement as Aragorn swung himself into the saddle with ease, despite the huge horse.

They rode off at a canter in the direction of the forest ahead of them, where Eomer and his men had burned the orcs.

"Itarilde. . ."

Itarilde turned in her saddle to look at Emily. "Yes?"

Emily was frowning. "I've just thought of something. Kel and Neal, they're trained knights. How could they get captured? They can fight off orcs like no tomorrow, and they wouldn't just _allow_ the orcs to take them."

Itarilde's eyes widened. "Not unless they werebadly injuredor something. . ."

"Exactly."

With that thought in mind they rode even faster, hoping their friends had escaped the orcs before they were destroyed. A few hours later, they entered Fangorn forest and approached the pyre. A strong stench of burnt corpses assailed their nostrils. Emily's mouth dropped open as she saw the number of orcs that had been slaughtered. Aragorn started to search the ground for their tracks, but found no trace of their missing companions.

A rustle in the trees was heard behind them. Everyone turned, weapons ready. An old man stood in front of a tree.

"Can we do anything for you?" Aragorn asked him.

Then, slowly, right before their eyes, he vanished.

Legolas ran over to the spot where he had been standing a second ago. There was no trace of him.

"The horses!"

They all rushed to the clearing where they had left the horses. All of them were gone.

Aragorn sighed. "Well, we started on foot, and I guess we'll have to end on foot."

"Eomer's going to kill us." Said Itarilde.

"Actually, the King is going to kill _him_ for lending us the horses." Corrected Emily.

"Either way, it'll take forever to get to Meduseld."

"Then we'd better get started right away." Aragorn told them.

And off they went again.

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Black-raven3: Thank you for reviewing. I've been planning on editing some previous chapters for a while. Also (I don't mean to sound rude), instead of just bluntly stating "your writing is very poor," I would appreciate it if you could tell me how to improve it. Thanks! 


	11. Travelling with those ugly orcs

Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, or Kel or Neal or Harry Potter

A/N: I haven't updated in a while. . . Sorry. . . I've kind of been busy, with school and stuff. To tell you the truth, I actually finished this chapter over the summer, but I got a bit too lazy to post it up. . . hehehe. . .

Traveling with the Uruk-Hai

Pippin woke up to find himself bouncing uncomfortably up and down.He was hanging onto the neck of an orc. There were orcs all around them, and all were running. The last thing he remembered was running through the woods at Amon Hen, looking for Frodo, when orcs had suddenly come and attacked them. Before any could land a blow, Boromir had jumped in and fought them off single-handedly, until the orc captain had shot 3 arrows into him, and yet he had continued fighting to save them. Then Kel and Neal had come out of the trees, only to be taken by surprise by the orcs and had gotten slashed by the orc-swords. Four orcs had grabbed him, Kel, Neal, and Merry-

Pippin gave a start. Where was Merry? He looked around, relieved to see Merry being carried by an orc not too far away. He was not so relieved, though, to see the rag wrapped around his friend's head. What had they done to him?

He spotted Neal a few orcs away. The young adult waved but glanced worriedly at Kel, who, like Merry, was unconscious.

Pippin closed his eyes. The Fellowship was lost. He would never see Aragorn, or Frodo, or anyone ever again. . .

A few hours later all the orcs dropped their burdens onto the ground. Neal gasped in pain as his injured side came into impact with the stony ground. The shock of the fall woke Kel up. She looked around her at all the orcs, horrified. There was also an intense pain in her right shoulder, but she wasn't sure how she'd gotten the wound. She found her wrists and ankles bound tightly. When she tried to move, a very heavy foot kicked her back. Then memory came flooding back-and hit her like a brick. But why had the orcs taken them? Why hadn't they killed them? She noticed Neal a few feet away. He seemed fine, as well as Pippin, but Merry was in a pretty bad state.

"Why keep them?" one of the orcs was saying. "Why not just kill them?"

"No." growled a deep voice, so low and crackly that even Pippin had to strain his ears to hear it clearly. "It's orders. I was told to kill all but not the Halflings. They were to be brought to Saruman, alive and unspoilt."

"But Ugluk," another orc protested, "only 2 are halflings. What about the others?"

"They were kept only because they knew we had taken the Halflings. The others will take longer finding them if they don't know where we've taken them," came the reply.

"So can we kill the humans?" the first orc asked.

The corners of Ugluk's mouth curled up in a nasty smile. "I have a better idea. We can have a bit of fun with them."

An ugly orc sneered. "Just kill them all. Saruman is an insignificant minion of Sauron. Why take orders from him?" He raised his sword and advanced on the hobbits.

Ugluk jumped forward, narrowly missing stomping Pippin flat, and beheaded the ugly orc. Then there was a lot of confusion and fighting, as orcs yelled at each other and drew weapons. It looked like there were 2 different races, from the way they were grouped together.

In all the chaos Neal inched closer to Kel and green magic flowed from his fingers as he healed Kel's shoulder wound and other injuries. Kel glared at him but didn't protest. It felt too good. The healing left both of them exhausted and they took no heed of what was going on around them.

A dead orc fell beside Pippin. Seizing his chance, the hobbit cut the binds around his wrists and quickly retied them loosely. When Ugluk finally got things back in order his temper was as quick as the rapids on the Great River.

"Get up!" he hauled Pippin to his feet, but the hobbit fell back down, not having used his legs for a long time. Ugluk was in no mood to patient. He took a bottle of smelly dark liquid and poured it into Pippin's mouth. It burned his throat all the way to his stomach, but at the same time sent warmth flowing into his limbs.

He watched as Ugluk gave Kel and Neal the same treatment, then went over to Merry and kicked him repeatedly until he woke up. Kel winced in sympathy as the orc stripped off the rag on Merry's forehead and dumped the liquid on it, then shoved some down his throat.

"We're tired of carrying you." Ugluk snarled. "On your feet. All of you are running the rest of the way!"

They ran for the entire day, the 4 captives straining to keep up with the never-tiring orcs. At one point Pippin stumbled off the path, trying his best to make it look accidental. His fingers fumbled with the elven brooch at his throat, unclasping it and dropping it on the ground as an orc seized him and pushed him back onto the path, whipping his legs with a leather strip as an unspoken reminder to keep up.

Kel noticed that the whip was used on her and Neal a lot more than the hobbits. So this was what Ugluk's "better idea" had been. She bit her lip as the whip descended on her once again. Orcs here and there would take turns shoving Kel and Neal off the path, then dragging them back, or knocking them to the ground and attempting to trample them. It was all Kel could do to hurl herself out of the way of those iron-shod feet.

By the time they stopped, Kel and Neal were covered in bruises and whip-lashes. Their legs were watery from running for so long. The orcs that had been carrying Merry and Pippin (they had fallen repeatedly to the point that the orcs were forced to carry them) dropped them on the ground beside Kel and Neal.

Ugluk's nasty voice pierced through the sullen atmosphere. "What do you think you're doing, Glob?"

The orc called Glob grumbled. "I want to kill the humans. Tasty flesh. . . tasty flesh. . ."

"No." said Ugluk. "They will be brought to Saruman as well."

"He didn't ask for them, though!" a high pitched voice protested.

"He will question all that are brought. If nothing can be gotten out of the Halflings, then all of them will be tortured until someone talks."

An argument broke forth. Merry took that moment to talk to the others.

"What do we do?" he hissed frantically.

Neal shook his head but Kel said, "Do you all have some lembas left? That would give us the strength to escape, but I don't know how we'll get it with our hands and feet tied so tightly."

Hoofbeats pounded close to them. All 4 lay flat and still, hoping it wasn't an enemy. It wasn't though, they found out soon enough, as the rider killed the orc closest to them. Several dozen more riders leapt out of the darkness and attacked the orcs.

Pippin untied the loose rope around his hands and used the sword of the dead orc to cut the binds around his legs. He cut Merry, Kel, and Neal's binds as well.

Merry frowned. "Why don't we find out whether these riders are friend or foe? They seem nice enough; they killed the orcs for us."

"They must be the Riders of Rohan," Kel said, "We could try to speak to them, but even if they were friendly we would be taken to Rohan, and what good would that do to us? We're not trying to get to Rohan."

"Where _are_ we trying to go?" asked Pippin.

Neal rolled his eyes. "We're trying to find Aragorn. Or at least get him to find us. I don't he would have gone to Rohan. It is most likely that he went with Frodo to Mordor."

"Good point," Pippin mused. "But if we went to Rohan-"

"You _know _Rohan isn't on the way to Mordor. We have to catch up to Aragorn and the others. We can't stray off course."

Then all of them crawled out of the vicinity of killing. They crawled for a while, then stopped when they thought they were safe and ate some of their remaining lembas. Although it had been crushed and shaken, it still tasted as fresh as it had when they had left Lothlorien. Back when the Fellowship was still whole and existent.

A/N: Yay! Is it good? Is it horrible (I hope not)? Please review!


	12. The finding of Gollum

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR, or Kel or Neal or Harry Potter.

A/N: I'm happy, because I finished my geography test today and now I don't have to study . . . until the next test. And it would make me even happier if you review! (hint hint)

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Chapter 12

The Finding of Gollum

"What was that?" whispered Sam as he and Frodo looked down from a ledge. Frodo strained his ears, trying to hear something-anything. Finally he gave up, and then faced his current challenge, trying to get down to a ledge 30 metres below.

"There's no way we could do this unless we had some rope," he mumbled.

Sam brightened. "Rope? I've got rope! The elvish rope that Haldir put in our boats!"

He quickly tied it to a tree trunk and threw it over the edge. As far as they could see, the end of it seemed to come very close to the bottom of the ledge below. Sam took a good grip on the rope and began to climb down, groping for footholds with his feet. Before he knew it, his feet had landed firmly on the ledge.

Frodo, not to be left behind, scurried down the rope as well. When both had gotten down Sam looked at the rope affectionately. "It's too bad I'll probably never see this rope again." He sighed. "Galadriel. . ." Then he gave it one last pull. To his surprise, the knot securing it to the tree trunk came undone and the rope fell at his feet.

"Well, that was easy."

They continued on. Then a strange noise was heard. It seemed to be a low, gravelly sound, issuing from behind a rock.

Sam froze. "Mr. Frodo, there's something over there!" he whispered

"Sam, be quiet! I'm well aware of that! It must be Gollum."

"That little stinker. I'll take care of _him_." With that, Sam drew his sword and advanced on the rock. The croaking sound continued. Out of the darkness, Sam jumped on top of the creature. The tiny thing showed extraordinary strength for his size, and soon he was on top of Sam, pinning him down.

A ring of metal resounded close by. Frodo had drawn Sting. Very suddenly, Gollum let go of Sam and lay down in submission.

"Don't kill us!" he wailed desperately. "We don't hurt kind little hobbitses! Be nice to poor Gollum!"

Frodo and Sam exchanged looks. "What should we do?" Frodo asked in an undertone.

"I say we kill him!" Sam whispered. "Or at least tie him up so he troubles us no more."

"Hobbitses whisper. Hobbitses whisper about Gollum. Poor Gollum."

Frodo shook his head. He looked at Gollum, twitching nervously on the ground and whimpering. Somehow, he just couldn't bring himself to slit Smeagol's throat. It didn't seem fair. He was so tiny, and so pitiful. There didn't seem to be any happiness left in him, just self-pity and wretchedness . . . and, if it must be admitted, schizophrenia. So, to Sam's amazement, he lowered Sting and regarded Gollum warily.

"Nice hobbitses!" he said. "They don't harm usss. They-"

"We don't harm you," said Frodo sharply, "on the condition that you lead us to Mordor. You know the way."

Gollum's pale eyes widened. "Evil. . . why go there? Nice hobbitses should not go. . . No. . . too many orcsesss. . ."

Frodo raised his sword again. Gollum cowered and backed away. "You _do _want to live, don't you? And we wish to go to the Land of the Shadow. Our business there is not for you to meddle with. You lead us, or you die at the mercy of my sword. You have encountered it before, but with a different bearer."

Gollum seemed to shrink under Frodo's glare. His eyes were always on the tip of the sword. "We do as hobbitses say. Yesss, we do. Nice hobbitses not hurtssss usssss."

With Gollum as a guide, they would be able to make the journey to Mordor much quicker than if they were alone. Even so, Frodo was beginning to feel the effects of the burdensome Ring. It dragged at his neck, pulling him down, and causing him much grief and worry. He trudged on, though, sliding down slopes, stepping high to avoid logs, wondering if the journey he had begun would ever come to an end.

_He was back at Bag End, outside Bilbo's hobbit-hole, watching his uncle smoke his pipe. The old hobbit looked so peaceful, sitting there, as if years of care had been scraped off his appearance. No longer old and slightly frail, but much like the Bilbo that had once set off for the Lonely Mountain, with a pack of dwarves and a wizard. . . _

"_You know, Frodo," he said, "I could use another adventure. Something to keep me busy. You could come with me. We'll journey to faraway places. . ."_

Frodo tripped over a tree root, then followed Sam and Gollum through a clump of bushes and around a tree. His feet were aching and he felt as though he was just dragging himself along. Stumbling, he found that the Ring felt much more pleasant in his hand than around his neck. It was much lighter that way. . .

_Once again, he was outside Bag End. It was a beautiful fall day, and the leaves needed raking. Sam was pulling the weeds out of the bright garden. As Frodo picked up the rake to clean the leaves off the grass, he caught sight of his cousins, Merry and Pippin, playing along with the hobbit-children. He shook his head and smiled, wondering if they would ever grow up. . . _

Frodo paused for breath as he, Sam and Gollum started their trudge uphill. He wasn't sure if he would survive the entire trip east. From the looks of it now, he probably wouldn't be able to go on another few hours. And then the power of the Ring would never be put to an end and Sauron would take over Middle-Earth. His beloved Shire would be destroyed. _No, _said a firm voice at the back of his head. He had to destroy the Ring, no matter what. He held the fate of Middle-Earth in the palm of his hand.

_He and Sam were wandering around in the field south of Bag End, the Party Field. They amused themselves by identifying different types of flowers that grew wild in the grass. For a moment he was sure he saw _elanor, _the tiny golden flower of Lothlorien. Then, he blinked, and it was gone. _

"_Frodo! Frodo!" Bilbo was calling._

_Frodo started running back to Bag End. _

"_Frodo!" _

_He must hurry; Bilbo did not like to be kept waiting._

"_Frodo!"_

_He tried to call back, but he was too out of breath._

"_Frodo!"_

"Frodo!" Sam cried. "What are you doing!"

Frodo realized he was in the process of putting on the Ring. Disgusted with himself, he dropped it on the ground. Luckily, Gollum was nowhere near. They must have stopped for the night, for he found himself in a cave-like shelter. With trembling fingers, he slipped the Ring back on its chain and hung it from his neck like it had been before.

"Sam," he whispered. "It's getting heavier, and more powerful."

Sam opened his mouth to console his master, but just then Gollum returned.

"You starves usss!" he complained. "You gives poor Smeagol no food and leaves usss to die!"

Reluctantly, Frodo handed Gollum a package of their precious lembas. There was very little waybread left, and they would have to ration their food to survive. Gollum snatched up the package, sniffed at it suspiciously, and took a small bite. He spat it out violently.

"Hobbitses tries to poison usss! You gives us elvish food! You tries to poison us!"

In his agitation, he threw the rest of the package into a pool of water nearby.

Sam stood up violently and proceeded to strangle Gollum. "Say that again, you filthy, ungrateful, slimy-"

"Sam!" Frodo pulled Sam off of Gollum.

"He just wasted an entire package of lembas!" Sam exclaimed. "And he insulted the elves! That's one thing that I won't let go unpunished."

Frodo turned to Gollum, "Smeagol!" said he sharply. "We have meant you no harm. If you continue wasting our food, we will tie you up with _elvish rope_ and _drag_ you to Mordor!" he rounded on Sam. "And you, Samwise Gamgee, your behaviour was not much better."

Sam looked at the ground. He hated being lectured by his master.

As soon as Gollum left the cave to search for food, Frodo collapsed onto the ground. All the walking he'd done that day had drained him. He didn't know how he would survive the march to Mount Doom. His quest looked hopeless. _Why _had he taken the Ring alone? If Aragorn was here. . .

Sam watched his master and immediately felt remorseful. He could see the Ring slowly wearing him down. It was going to be the death of Frodo. If only there was something he could do. . .

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A/N: How is it? Some parts don't exactly go according to the movie because I didn't have the DVD of the Two Towers when I wrote this, only the book. Anyway, please REVIEW! 


	13. Mithrandir is back

**Chapter 13 **

**Mithrandir is back**

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, or Neal or Kel or Harry Potter. What I do own are my random ideas and the ability to get high off my own laughter.

Aragorn paused, scanning the ground for any traces of the hobbits. Sighing, he straightened up, not having found anything. Suddenly, all 6 of them tensed up. Something was behind them. Simultaneously, they turned around, weapons up. An old man was standing a few feet away, his figure silhouetted by the feeble light shining through the treetops.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Aragorn demanded.

"I know who you are looking for. "The man said, not responding to Aragorn's question. "They passed by not too long ago, and met someone they did not expect to meet."

"_Who are you?" _Aragorn emphasized the words, as if the man didn't speak the common tongue.

"We have traveled together before, Isildur's heir."

Aragorn's eyes widened. The stranger knew Aragorn as the heir of Isildur. That was uncommon. Only the people they knew would know Aragorn's true identity. A stranger on the road would only see him as a typical Gondorian. Aragorn could blend in very well when he wished. This made everyone suspicious, especially Legolas. Thinking he was an enemy of the line of Isildur, he shot an arrow at the old man, but the arrow suddenly changed direction in midair, going off to the side.

"We are old friends. Do you not remember. . . Legolas?"

Legolas froze. The man took off the hood of his white cloak. Emily found herself staring into Gandalf's face.

"Gandalf?" she gasped.

"Yes, I was called that once," he frowned, as if trying to remember.

Itarilde looked relieved. "I thought you were Saruman."

Gandalf nodded. "But I am Saruman."

The Emilys and Harry recoiled in fear and confusion.

"I am Saruman," Gandalf repeated, "If not in physical appearance, in his rank, for I am now Gandalf the White."

Legolas gaped. He pulled himself together and cried, "Gandalf! I am sorry I shot at you! I thought you were an enemy, and. . . and how in Middle-Earth did you survive that fall?"

"Tell us what happened," Emily pleaded.

"I don't know if I am ready yet to relive the grim tale, but here is the story from my account," Gandalf replied.

_**Flashback:**_

_Down he fell. Down, down, down. . . Gandalf squinted in the dark, trying to locate his foe. Suddenly, a blast of fire surrounded him, burning his robe to ashes. And yet they still kept falling. . . _

_Then, quite abruptly, both Gandalf and the balrog fell into a deep pool of icy water. Shivering, the wizard followed the balrog into a dry tunnel at the bottom of the pool, leading right into the heart of Moria, into the uttermost foundations of stone. After their trip through the water the balrog had been extinguished of all flame. He was now a snake-like writhing creature, fleeing along the tunnels, with Gandalf behind him all the while, slicing at him with his sword. They groped along in the dark until they came to the foot of a set of long stairs. They climbed up, higher, higher, higher. . . Gandalf wasn't sure how much more he could take. He was a maia, yes, but he _did_ have human limits. _

_When he thought he had just about finished off his strength, they reached the top. On the very summit of the tower of Celebdil the balrog sprang to life with new flames, brighter and more fiery than before. By now Gandalf had to reach into his inner self, calling on the last reserves of his strength. With a great cry he leaped toward the balrog, striking rapidly with his sword. Eventually, the balrog, annoyed by his attacking, moved backward, out of reach of Gandalf's sword. In doing so, he stepped over the edge of the tower and fell to his doom. This time, though, Gandalf watched the flame-whip carefully, making sure it wasn't going to come back up and bring him down again. It was then that he saw the black dots dancing at the edge of his vision. He staggered back from the drop before him and collapsed onto the hard stone with a loud grunt._

_**End of Flashback.**_

"It was then that Gwaihir the eagle bore me to the woods of Lorien, and there I was given the white garments I wear now."

"So you're here, but now where are we going?" Harry asked, now that they had their leader back.

"We are going to Edoras," replied the old wizard. "Much devilry has been at work at Meduseld."

"Devilry?" asked Itarilde, "What devilry?"

"Saruman has his ways. You will see when we get there," Gandalf would say no more.

"How will we get to Edoras? On foot? Our horses have run away." Legolas informed Gandalf.

Gandalf smiled slightly. "I think not." He whistled, and the most beautiful horse Itarilde had ever seen came galloping over. His gaits looked effortless. It wouldn't have made much difference if he had been galloping on cloud. He stopped and stood beside Gandalf, and Itarilde admired his well-defined withers, his sloping hindquarters, and the way he held his proud head. She was so immersed, staring at this handsome creature, that she almost didn't notice Galad nuzzling her arm. At first she was startled, wondering where her horse had come from, but quickly realized that the image before her eyes was real and she wasted no time in wrapping her arms around her horse.

"I'm so glad you're safe," Itarilde whispered to her horse, "I would never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to you."

She had a thing for horses, apparently.

"Um. . . Itarilde?"

Itarilde looked up and found everyone staring at her. She then noticed that she was literally clinging onto Galad's neck, much like a young child onto her parents. Blushing furiously, she let go and mounted up.

They would ride bareback for now, as the saddles were still back at their former campsite. When everybody had mounted, Gandalf led the way at a walk.

"Where were the horses?" Harry asked, holding his horse's mane in an iron grip, hoping he wouldn't fall off.

"When the horses ran away last night, they must have met Shadowfax, Gandalf's horse. Because Shadowfax is one of the Maeras, Theoden's best horses, they would have met him before. My guess is that they stayed with him until Gandalf called him over." Aragorn responded. "Is that right, Gandalf?"

Gandalf nodded absently, his eyes trained on something far off into the distance. Without warning, he led them all into a canter. And so they started their journey to Meduseld.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I've added something to the end of chapter one, a description of the Emilys, in case you were wondering who they are and all. I've put off putting that up for a while. . .


	14. Treebeard

Chapter 14

Treebeard

The hobbits scurried quickly into the trees so they wouldn't get trampled. Kel and Neal were too drained of energy to move, so Merry and Pippin had to literally drag them over. The humans being twice as big as them, this was no easy task. At last all 4 of them were hidden safely in the trees.

"How do we get out of here?" asked Merry. "We can't very well escape with out hands and legs bound."

Pippin smiled. "And you won't have to," he slipped off the binds around his wrists. "I cut it last night when the orcs were fighting."

Pippin quickly untied everyone else's bonds. They all sat on the forest floor and ate some of the remaining lembas. At last, when everyone was able to stand, they crawled through the trees, as far away from the orc camp as possible, where screams of rage could still be heard. Merry could have sworn that, above all the din, he heard Ugluk's horrible voice shouting desperate orders. He shuddered. Then the shouting stopped and more hooves could be heard.

"Let's get out of here while they're busy," Pippin said.

Neal frowned. "But if they riders are of Rohan there isn't much to fear, is there?"

Kel shrugged. "We don't know if the are the Rohirrim. If we were sure we could go with them, but its so dark its impossible to see their banners or their uniforms. It would be best if we just kept going."

Wearily, all of them climbed to their feet.

"Does anyone know where we are?" asked Pippin, thinking it would be rather pointless to start journeying back to Amon Hen.

Neal made a tutting noise. "Insignificant young hobbit, what were you doing in Rivendell? Frolicking and amusing yourself, I'll wager. Whereas _I,_ educated scholar as I am-"

Kel rolled her eyes and elbowed him, "I think you should know that Pippin is just about twice your age, so if he is young, what does that make you? And you'd think you would have learned as a page to refrain from making speeches," she shook her head, "I can't count the number of times Lord Wyldon threatened to tie your tongue in knots."

"The Stump. . . I wonder if he still remembers me. . . "

Kel shook her head again, "I doubt he could forget, even if he wanted to. In regards to where we are, I'm pretty sure we're on the western border of Fangorn forest. If we can travel south from here, we'll end up in Rohan. But is that where we want to go? We're trying to find Aragorn, but where is he? He probably went off with Frodo."

Pippin didn't think so. "Would he leave us to the orcs? I don't think so."

Neal agreed. "He's not that kind of person. He would have followed our tracks and found us eventually, but it's pointless to stay in this forest so that more orcs come and attack us. We should head for Rohan. If Aragorn has been able to track us to here, he will be able to track us to Rohan as well."

Merry nodded. "Although I do wonder if those riders were the Riders of Rohan. They could have brought us to our destination."

"There's nothing we can do about that now. We may as well get going."

A rustling of leaves was heard behind them. Everyone turned around warily. An orc charges out of the trees, sword in hand. His eyes were wild, consumes by an enrages fire. A deep gash traced through his right cheek. It bled sluggishly, but he paid it no heed. The only thought on his mind was that the hobbits had something he had wanted. . . for a very long time, and now they were getting away. With a mad roar he ran at Merry and Pippin. Having been deprived of weapons by Ugluk, all they could do was run. Their only hope was to keep outrunning the orc until he bled to death or ran out of strength. But judging from the pace and vigour at which he chased them now, it looked as if it was much more likely that the orc would catch up to them and kill them.

In all this Kel and Neal were not standing idly. The ran after the orc, hoping they could catch up to him and pin him to the ground. But they could only drag themselves along at a laborious pace, after an entire day of ceaseless running. The distance between them and the orc increased. . .

Merry tripped over a tree root. Pippin immediately stopped to help his cousin. Before they had a chance to continue running, the orc jumped at them, the dull, rusty edge of his sword promising a very painful and prolonged death. But death never came. Or at least, not for the two hobbits, who watched, amazed, as a tree limb came down and crushed the orc. Kel and Neal ran into the scene to see the hobbits gaping at the orc who seemed to be stuck under a tree root.

"What happened?" Neal gasped, catch his breath.

"The tree!" Pippin exclaimed. "It. . . it stomped on the orc!"

"_TREE?"_ Boomed a voice from high above them.

"Who's there?" Kel looked up, attempting to locate the speaker.

"_I am right in front of you,_" the voice said, with a touch of humour. "_Treebeard, some call me. But I am no tree. I am an ent._"

All 4 of them looked at the tree in front of them. It had eyes, and a nose, and a mouth.

"What's an ent?" Merry wanted to know.

"_We ents," _Treebeard began slowly, "_are ancient folk. We are not trees. Trees are stationary; they must stay put. But we ents can come and go as we wish."_

Kel looked at Treebeard's roots, and sure enough, they looked just like a pair of knobbly feet.

"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt," Kel ventured, "but my friends and I have all suffered grievous wounds. We are exhausted from our journey. Is there a safe place nearby where we can rest and recover from our injuries?"

Treebeard eyes them for a moment. "_Indeed, you are a hasty folk. How am I to know that you are not orcs? Orcs fell tress and because they care not about the difference between trees and Ents, they kill us also."_

Neal snorted disdainfully. "Those awful bloodthirsty creatures? Do we _look_ like orcs to you?"

"_Very well_," Treebeard didn't seem at all perturbed by Neal's rudeness. "_If you are not orcs, what are you?_" He seized the hobbits in one gnarled hand and Kel and Neal in the other.

"We're humans," Kel gestured to her and Neal, "We're men of Gondor."

"And we're hobbits," Pippin said.

"_Hobbits?_" Treebeard's deep voice growled. "_I have never heard of such folk_." He started to clench the fist in which he held the hobbits.

"No!" Merry cried. "We're not orcs! We're Halflings, Shire-folk. . ."

Treebeard squeezed even harder. "_Orcs kill my folk_." He obviously was not listening to Merry.

The pressure of Treebeard's strong grip was starting to cut off the hobbits' breathing.

"No!" Merry gasped. "Please stop! We're not orcs! We're. . ."

Then, the lack of air, along with the excruciating pain from the gash in his forehead, became too much for Merry. He passed out, going completely limp in Treebeard's clenched fist.

"Stop!" Kel shrilled.

Treebeard, startled, relaxed his grip. "_I do not think they are orcs,"_ he said at last, as Pippin started gulping as much air as he could.

"Look at what you've done!" Kel screamed, furious. "I cannot believe you had to suffocate them to find out that they were not orcs! Are you at all humane?"

Treebeard glanced over at Merry. "_I apologize_," he said, slightly shamefaced, "_I will bring you to my home. There, all of you shall find rest._" He turned to Kel. "_I thank you, woman of gondor, for making me aware of what I was doing_." Treebeard started walking.

Kel shook her head. "I shouldn't have lost my temper." She sighed and then muttered, "What the Yamanis would think of me now. . ."

Neal patted her shoulder. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Kel. The Yamanis don't control your life."

"I admire them so much though," Kel protested quietly.

"Well, I like you the way you are," Neal said dryly, "If you were too Yamani-ish you wouldn't be the Kel that I know. But then again," he added thoughtfully, "if you were too Tortallan you wouldn't be the Kel that I know either."

Kel yawned, the past day's endless running starting to take effect on her. Neal continued to drawl on about what he thought of Kel being part Yamani, and if he had ever met anyone who was such a perfectionist. When he glanced over at her, she was asleep, her head cradled in a hollow of wood.

"How long until we reach your home?" Neal asked Treebeard.

Treebeard sighed, amused. "_You mortals are so hasty," he said, "we will not be there for quite a while. In the meantime, enjoy the forest. You will notice that all the trees look so alive. They are becoming Ent-ish. Becoming alive. . ."_

Neal let Treebeard's voice wash over him. The rhythmic _thud thud_ of Treebeard's feet against the ground faded away as his eyelids started to droop. Before long, he, too, was asleep.


	15. Arrival in Edoras

**Chapter 15**

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR. I never did, and I never will. . . I also don't own Harry Potter or Kel or Neal.

A/N: Thank you all my faithful reviewers (cries over the fact that I don't have all that many. . .anyway) Wow, I really haven't written in a looong time! I have been very busy. . . yeah, I know, excuses, excuses. Anyway, this chapter is really long so I hope it makes up for the long waiting time. This chapter was supposed to be about Frodo and Sam, but I still haven't finished writing about them, so I decided to put up the stuff with Aragorn instead. I kind of put off writing about Sam and Frodo for a little while. . .

**Chapter 15**

**Arrival in Edoras**

Emily watched her surroundings fly past her as she clung onto her horse with all her willpower. Although Estel's canter was smooth, she still found herself bouncing uncomfortably on his back. Even so, it felt so good to be able to sit down after such a long time on her feet. She felt weariness creep up on her, and the next thing she knew, her eyelids were forcing their way shut.

Itarilde happened to glance beside her just at that moment. She saw her friend fall. Fortunately, they were at the back of the company, otherwise Emily might have been trampled.

"Emily!" Itarilde turned her horse and rushed back to retrieve her friend.

Out of the corner of his eye Aragorn saw this and ordered everyone to halt. A look of annoyance crossed Gandalf's face, and he started muttering under his breath. Legolas put a comforting hand on the wizard's shoulder.

"Have patience. We will get to Edoras soon enough."

As soon as Emily had hit the ground, she had snapped awake instantly, away only of the pain in her left shoulder, which had been the first part of her body to come into contact with the ground. She heard pounding hoof beats as Itarilde came charging over with an amused smile on her face.

"Not.. . a. . .word." Emily told her through gritted teeth.

"Next time, try not to fall asleep," she commented as she pulled a glaring Emily to her feet.

In her haste to reach her friend, Itarilde had forgotten to bring Estel, Emily's horse. So Emily had to ride pillion with Itarilde until they reached the other horses.

"Are you okay?" Itarilde asked once Emily was seated behind her. Emily nodded. She would have a bruise on her shoulder, but she wasn't seriously hurt.

As soon as Emily as mounted on her horse Gandalf led them off again, this time at a quick walk and not a headlong canter.

A while later they started to see horses dotting the landscape. Horses grazed in pastured on either side. Itarilde looked at them wistfully.

"One day, I will have a farm. . . with lots and lots of horses!" Itarilde suddenly exclaimed. "I'll name one of them Aragorn, and one of them Legolas, and another Gimli. . . unless of course the dwarf would rather not have anything to do horses?" she raised her eyebrows at Gimli.

"Name your beasts as you like, lass, but I can't say I'd be too happy living on your farm." Gimli replied, smiling.

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Some time later they reached Edoras. As they rode into the capital of Rohan, Emily couldn't help but notice the look of poverty in the city. The houses looked so frail, as if they might crumble with the lightest touch.

They arrived at Meduseld, the palace of the king. The building was adorned with gold. There was not a shingle missing from the roof, nor a stone from the walls. Itarilde's mouth dropped open in wonder, but she closed it quickly when guards gave her strange looks.

Gandalf dismounted and motioned for everyone else to do the same. He walked up to a guard and talked to him in hushed tones.

"It would be much appreciated if you could stable these horses. See to it that they are cared for as well."

The guard at first looked ready to protest but complied immediately when Gandalf pressed a coin into his hand. Another guard at the door demanded, "Who are you and what business do you have at Mesuseld?"

Gandalf stepped forward. "I am Gandalf the White. Do not hinder me. I must see Theoden King right away."

The guard frowned. "And who are the others?"

"With me is Aragorn son of Arathorn, Legolas of Mirkwood, Gimli son of Gloin, Itarilde and Emily of Gondor, and Olorin the Different. We have nothing against your king, nor your nation. _May we enter?_"

The last words were spoken with such authority that the guard reluctantly told them, "You may enter, but I must ask you to lay down your weapons, for I cannot permit you to appear in front of King Theoden so heavily armed."

Everyone put down their weapons slowly. Harry said nothing about his wand, which was hidden in his cloak. The company looked at the guard expectantly, wondering why he hadn't opened the door yet.

"Your staff," he said to Gandalf, "That too is a weapon."

Gandalf looked offended. "You would not part an old man from his walking stick, would you?"

The guard looked uncertain but admitted them. Out of the corner of her eye, Itarilde thought she saw Gandalf wink at Aragorn. She shook her head, wondering what Gandalf was planning to do.

"Hail, Theoden King! I bring you visitors," the guard stepped out and closed the door.

Itarilde looked around her. Before them stretched a long hall leading to the throne, upon which sat King Theoden. Guards lined the hall on either side. As Itarilde lifted her eyes to look at the King, a gasp escaped her lips.

On the throne sat the palest, oldest, and frailest man she had ever seen. His eyes were tiny and unfocused, his pupils hardly visible. He was literally skin and bones. His movements were slow and careful, if he moved at all. He no longer seemed to have to will to live. As it was, Itarilde had to admit he did look as though he was on the brink of death. An aura of sickliness was about him. And on the king's right side, a disgusting-looking pale man sat, whispering in his ear. This man was Grima Wormtongue, Theoden's advisor.

"Gandalf the Grey approaches," he whispered to Theoden, "Surely he brings with him ill news. Do not listen to him, my lord. Do not lay any more on your worried mind."

Gandalf glared at Wormtongue. "Silence! Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth!"

The wizard halted a few feet away from Theoden. "Hail, Theoden King-"

"His staff!" Wormtongue said to Theoden, "Hama didn't completely disarm them!"

"I told you to keep silent!" Gandalf snapped, his patience wearing thin. He pointed his staff at Wormtongue, who flew 6 feet in the air and came to rest in front of Gimli.

"Grima is right," Theoden croaked. Everyone turned to look at him. "Why should I welcome you?"

"I do bring ill news," Gandalf replied, "but I also bring counsel, and hope," he raised his staff and a bright light filled the room, "Too long have you lived in the shadows, Theoden."

Theoden, by some unseen force, was pushed back violently against the back of the throne. All around the company guards rushed over to attack Gandalf. They never reached him. Most were busy getting beaten up by Legolas and Aragorn, and the rest were knocked unconscious by Harry, who repeatedly cast spells with his wand. Gimli stepped on Wortongue, "I would stay still, if I were you."

Eowyn rushed in, startled by the sudden noise that had erupted from the room. She immediately ran forward todefend her uncle, but Aragorn held her back.

"Wait," he told her.

"Wait for what? That wizard is going to kill my uncle!"

"'That wizard' will do no such thing. He is purging from Theoden the poison of Saruman. Have you not noticed that your uncle has become more and more distant? All of that is Saruman's doing."

Eowyn fell silent, remembering that a few days ago her uncle had not even recognized her.

A deep voice came from Theoden's throat. "Rohan is mine," it cackled.

"That is not my uncle's voice," Eowyn whispered.

"No," Aragorn replied gravely, "That is Saruman, speaking through him."

Gandalf once again slammed Theoden against his throne. "Leave him!" he commanded.

The deep voice came forth again. "If I go, Theoden dies. . ."

"You did not kill me; you cannot have him!" for the last time Theoden was thrown back.

* * *

In Orthanc Saruman fell to the ground, hit by Gandalf's power.

* * *

Theoden's face changed. Several lines of worry disappeared, and his eyes started to regain their focus. He no longer looked old and sickly. Itarilde saw the traces of a man who was once strong, who had led his people valiantly to battle, and perhaps to victory.

Eowyn broke free of Aragorn and ran to her uncle. A flash of recognition came into Theoden's eyes. "I know your face," he said softly. "Eowyn."

Eowyn smiled for the first time in many months, tears of joy mounting in her eyes.

"Where is my son, Theodred?" the king asked.

Eowyn's smile faded. "He. . . he fell at the fords. He was attacked by Saruman's army."

There was an awkward silence.

"What about Eomer? Where is he?"

Eowyn avoided her uncle's eyes. "Grima banished him."

Theoden put his head in his hands. "What have I done? I have led Rohan to their doom."

Gandalf walked over to Theoden and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "All is not lost, dear friend. Eomer remains loyal to you, and will come at need. Speaking of which. . ." Gandalf walked away from Theoden and started pacing in a circle in front of the throne.

"Yes?" prompted Theoden.

Gandalf paced for a moment longer, choosing his words carefully. He stopped pacing and looked at Theoden steadily. "Doom is upon Rohan. But there is still hope. Saruman aims to destroy Rohan. Even as we speak Wildmen are attacking the Westfold. Rohan will become weak. Open war is upon us. We must fight."

Theoden shook his head. "I will not risk it. I-"

"Stay still, you stupid snake!" Gimli shouted at Wormtongue, who was struggling to get up. "I'm warning you. . ."

Theoden turned to Wormtongue. "_You_," he said, his voice shaking with fury. "You deceived me. You led my people astray. You killed my son."

Gimli dragged Wormtongue out of the hall and threw him onto the stone steps of the palace.

"You death is justified," Theoden said, "by all the evil deeds you have done."

"No!" Wormtongue protested. "I have only ever served you, my lord! That wizard Gandalf has impaired your thought-"

"Silence!" Theoden ordered, rage resounding in every syllable. "Hama, bring me my sword!"

Hama walked up to the king, presenting him with a beautiful sword. Theoden took the sword and raised it over his head. Just as he was about to bring it down on Wormtongue, Aragorn cried out.

"No, Theoden!"

Everyone stared at him. Even Wormtongue.

"Enough blood has been spilt on his account. Must we spill more?"

For a moment Theoden didn't move. Then slowly, ever so slowly, helowered his sword. "You do not deserve to live, Grima. Yet I will give you a last chance. Leave now, but if I ever see you again I shall chop you up into a thousand pieces and leave you to rot. _Do I make myself clear?_"

Wormtongue stood up. "Yes, of course, my lord," he said shakily. "It was a pleasure meeting you-"

"Leave!" Theoden ordered.

Wormtongue turned and ran to the stables, where he saddled his horse and galloped off to Isengard.

"Hama," said Theoden, absently, watching Wormtongue charge off. "Gather some horsemen and order the people of Edoras to pack up their belongings. We must seek refuge at Helm's Deep."

Hama bowed. Minutes later, horses galloped around the city, their riders shouting, "By order of the King, the city must be emptied! Head to Helm's Deep!"

"Just as we arrived," Itarilde sighed, "I was hoping we could have stayed and rested for a while."

_No rest for the weary_, Aragorn often said. It was so incredibly true.

The first thing the Company had to do was get new saddles. They had left their saddles at the campsite where their horses had run away a couple of nights ago. So Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Emily, Ilarilde and Harry went off to the stables. Gimli had declined the offer of his own horse, as well as the invitation to go to the stables with them.

"Beastly creatures, they are," he had said, "I wish to have nothing to do with them."

On the way to the stables Harry took Galadriel's glass sphere out of his pocket. He looked into the crystal, trying to mentally push himself into the clear depths. It was different from the last time. This time he felt himself slide into another world. The first thing he saw was a black falg. On the flag there was a hand, crudely drawn on with white paint. Then he saw a stone wall. Archers were posted upon this wall, and. . .then the wall exploded. Harry wasn't given the time to ponder it, though, because the next image nearly startled a cry from his throat. There were thousands and thousands of orcs. . . all of them Saruman's orcs. They marched towards their destination at a great pace. Harry had never seen so many of these creatures.

The crystal suddenly became clear again, catching Harry by surprise. He stumbled and would have fallen if Aragorn, walking behind him, hadn't steadied him.

"Are you all right?" the ranger asked.

Harry ignored the question. "Aragorn," he said slowly, "How many orcs could Saruman send to destroy Rohan?"

Aragorn thought for a moment. "Perhaps three thousand. . . no more than that, I should say."

"What if he had more, though? What if he had ten thousand orcs?"

Aragorn frowned. "Then Rohan would fall. There would be very little chance of victory. It does not seem possible though; Saruman cannot possibly send ten thousand orcs to Helm's Deep. Why do you ask this?"

"Because I saw-"

Harry was interrupted when Gandalf suddenly exclaimed, "Helm's Deep! Why does Theoden not stand and fight? He is leading them into a trap."

"He is doing what he thinks is best for his people. Helm's Deep has protected them in the past," Aragorn replied.

They arrived at the stables. Itarilde immediately rushed inside, embracing the scent and the presence of the horses. Emily shook her head at her friend's obsession.

Gandalf walked over to Shadowfax's stall. "I must leave," he said to Aragorn. "Theoden cannot defeat Saruman's army alone," he jumped onto his horse. "Look for me at down of the fifth day." And with that, Shadowfax took off, leaving behind him a trail of dust.

The others were surprised at how much of their hope dissipated as they watched the horse and rider fly over the fields.

A/N: REVIEW! Please!


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